


Next to You (That’s Where I Want to Be)

by howtosingit



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27223072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howtosingit/pseuds/howtosingit
Summary: After a last-minute housing change, Texas State junior Carlos Reyes finds himself rooming with the most captivating guy he’s ever met, turning his entire school year upside down.*A College Roommates AU.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 205
Kudos: 218





	1. August | Move-in Day Meet-Cute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mtnofgrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtnofgrace/gifts).



> I'm dedicating this fic to Lauren because I cannot think of a single fic of mine that she has not shared or commented on, and her constant support of my work has majorly encouraged me to keep writing during this longer-than-average hiatus. Thanks for always being the positive light at the end of the writer's block tunnel, Lauren! I appreciate it more than you will ever know.
> 
> I've been pre-writing this fic for the past two months or so, and I am very excited to finally have the first part out in the world. There's a long, winding road ahead for these boys. I hope you like it!

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

Carlos reaches up to press firmly on the top corners of the poster, securing it to the stark, white-painted wall of his room. Running his hands down the length of it, he tries to smooth out any air pockets or creases that may have appeared since he packed it away in a box a few days ago. When he’s finally happy with it, he presses down on the bottom corners before stepping back to admire his wall.

He’s been working steadily for most of the day to unpack all of his boxes, knowing that once the semester starts tomorrow, he won’t really have time to settle into his dorm, between his classes and work. Besides, the blank white walls of San Marcos Hall are a far cry from comforting, and he knows he’ll feel more at home with all of his things in their place.

Two years ago, when Carlos moved into his freshman dorm at Texas State University, his mom and sisters had stayed for hours, meticulously unpacking his boxes and placing everything where they thought it should go. In fact, that had refused to leave until Carlos told them he needed to get some sleep before orientation the next day. He still remembers apologizing to his roommate - Zach, a screamo band guitarist - over and over again for his crazy family, getting no more than a “whatever, man” from the (possibly) stoned eighteen-year-old.

Now, he’s a junior, and much to the disappointment of his family, he is fully capable of moving into a dorm room by himself. Last spring, he and Paul rented a storage unit in town for most of their things, and it only took them a few hours yesterday to move everything into their four-person double suite. Carlos looks down at the last two boxes next to him, rummaging through them to see what’s left. He pulls out some bathroom items, crossing the room to place them on the counter until he figures out exactly where he wants them. As he re-enters the room, his eye catches on the vacant bed to his left. 

He has no idea who the owner of that bed is, a thought that has been at the forefront of his mind for the past five days, ever since he got the email about a last-minute change to his room assignment. When they had signed up for housing last spring, Carlos had requested a suite with Paul and Paul’s friend, Mateo, who Carlos knew fairly well from some parties and other events. Mateo had been desperate for a better living situation than his freshman year, and both he and Paul had been happy to help out. Their fourth roommate had originally been a random guy named Evan, who none of them really knew, but they used the last few weeks of the school year to meet him and hang out a bit. Evan was a little quiet, which suited Carlos just fine, and most importantly, he was open-minded. Though straight, Evan had had no qualms about sharing a room with a gay guy, and Carlos had been looking forward to a simple, possibly even drama-free year.

Then, about a week ago, Evan messaged him to say that he wasn’t coming back to TSU, deciding instead to backpack around Europe for the next year. Two days later, Carlos got an email from the Department of Housing and Residential Life with the name of his new mystery roommate.

Tyler Strand.

Carlos hadn’t recognized the name from any of his classes, and his social media search led to very few promising results, so he had no idea what to expect. 

Carlos looks down at his watch, realizing it’s almost four; it’s weird that his roommate hasn’t shown up yet, considering classes start the next day. He turns back to the bare bed, trying to imagine who he might be sharing a room with for the next nine months. 

In the past, Carlos has made sure to have the “hey, I’m gay” conversation with his roommates well before move-in day. Texas State is a big school, with a very diverse community of students, so he never really knows what to expect from anyone. It saves him a lot of grief when he’s able to be up-front about that part of himself from the very beginning.

He stares at the poster now hanging on his wall, biting down on his lip as he weighs whether or not he should take it down until he’s sure about his new roommate. With a sigh, he reaches to pull it down, resigned to the reality of the situation.

“I know you’re not taking Marsha off your wall, Reyes.”

Carlos jumps slightly at the voice, spinning to find Paul standing just inside the doorway, his eyebrow arched in judgment as he looks between Carlos and the poster still hanging behind him.

“Not for good, just until…” 

He trails off, his eyes shifting again to the bed near the door. Carlos can tell that his best friend immediately understands, as both of Paul’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead as he nods. 

“Whatever you gotta do, man,” Paul tells him, his lips rising in a smirk, “but you should know that I already hung the flag in the window, and that’s not coming down until May.”

He moves back to the common area, Carlos following behind. He takes in the small space, now filled with the couch, chair, and tables provided by the school, as well as their own belongings. Right above the couch, pulling focus immediately upon entering the space, is Paul’s Progress Pride Flag, its bright colors lighting up the room as the sun shines through the window behind it.

Carlos turns towards his friend, a small smile on his face. Paul’s already looking back, and he just shrugs at Carlos’s silent, yet supportive, reaction.

“This way, he’ll know immediately whether or not this is the right dorm for him,” he declares, his voice firm. “If he’s got a problem with it, he can take it up with Housing.”

A large chunk of the anxiety that has been rolling around inside Carlos’s chest settles for the first time in five days. It’s not that he’s always this nervous to meet new people; it’s just that growing up gay in Texas means he’s had to face a number of different initial reactions. It’s hard to know exactly what to expect from people.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Carlos finally agrees, giving the flag another look before glancing around the rest of the room. “Do you need any help in here?” 

For the most part, the room is pretty much put together; the TV is already on, a Netflix screensaver scrolling silently across the screen. The blankets and pillows are placed on the couch, the blue rug spread out on the floor. Behind him, Carlos notices their few dishes are placed on the shelves in the kitchenette, along with all of their snacks. He and Paul roomed together last year, so they have a good idea of how they like things to be set-up.

“Nah, I think I’m pretty much done here,” Paul says, crossing the room to enter his and Mateo’s suite. “Mateo’s upstairs in Maya’s room, so I think I’m gonna drive over to Grace and Marjan’s. You wanna come?”

Carlos considers the invitation. Grace, his other best friend, is like another sister to him. They’ve been friends since freshman year, when they took the same class on diversity and representation in literature. Like Carlos and Paul, she’s from Austin, so he actually got to see her a lot over the summer, but she’s spent the past few weeks moving into her off-campus apartment with their other friend Marjan. He’s been looking forward to seeing their new place ever since Grace texted him some pictures.

His thoughts cut back to the few boxes that he still has left to unpack, and the other things that he still wants to put up in his room. He thinks of the unclaimed bed and the stranger meant to occupy it. 

“I think I’ll stay here, finish unpacking before the hall meeting tonight,” he finally answers, gesturing back towards his room. Paul gives him a look, and Carlos gets the feeling that he knows where his mind just went. 

“Fine, but don’t pace a hole in the floor while you do it,” Paul says, grabbing his keys off the counter and opening the door that leads to the hall. “I know how you can get, Reyes.”

“I’ll be fine,” Carlos huffs out, rolling his eyes as he goes back to his room. “See you later.”

“Text me about dinner,” Paul shouts, the mint green door closing with a snap behind him, leaving Carlos alone with his thoughts. 

“I’m fine,” he reassures himself, moving back towards his last two boxes. 

It doesn’t sound entirely convincing, even to his own ears.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“I’m still working out the schedule, since most of the others didn’t send me their availability until this weekend,” Michelle says, rolling her eyes from behind the checkout desk. “Thank you, by the way, for sending yours so early. Why can’t everyone be like you?”

Carlos opens his mouth to speak, a heat rising on the back of his neck at her compliment, but Michelle is already turning to grab the fresh schedule from the printer behind her. She glances down at it briefly before sliding it over to him. “I have you down for Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and also Wednesday nights, but let me know if your course schedule changes at all.”

“Thanks, Michelle,” he says, smiling up at his supervisor.

It hadn’t taken Carlos long to get bored with waiting in his room. After he unpacked his last box, he spent another twenty minutes alphabetizing the novels on his bookshelf. Then, wary of proving Paul right and pacing a hole in the floor, he had grabbed his phone and his keys and decided to take a walk around campus to settle down and find a little peace.

That stroll had led him first to the bookstore to pick up his textbooks and then a little further to the library. He knew Michelle would be working orientation weekend and had wanted to see another familiar face.

“How's that second year of grad school looking?” Carlos asks, casually leaning over the desk to chat. 

“Oh, you know, more hours than anyone has time for on top of a full-time job, but what’s a little stress?” Michelle sarcastically replies, her signature smirk appearing. 

“But you’re still leaving Thursday nights open, right?” Carlos asks, raising an eyebrow as Michelle groans. “I’m gonna be there as often as I can, as the official president of your fan club.”

Michelle dramatically moans again, lowering her head down to the counter to fully display her disinterest. Carlos laughs, reaching forward to pat her gently on the back of the head.

“It went so well last year,” he reminds her, referring to the open mic nights they attended last spring. “You can’t just quit, ‘Chelle.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll keep doing the open mic nights,” she relents, standing up straight again. Then, suddenly, she points a finger directly at him. “But, only if you promise to get back in the dating game, Reyes.”

Now it’s Carlos’s turn to groan. Michelle has been on his case for months about finding a boyfriend. For some reason, she thinks that all he does is attend class, work at the library, read novels, and sleep - which is a far cry from the truth, but that doesn’t stop her from thinking that he’s lonely. 

“Don’t you groan at me,” she snaps, though her voice remains gentle. “You’re an insanely attractive guy, and men should be falling over themselves to get a chance to date you.”

“Well, they aren’t,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids her eyes. He thinks about the few times that he hooked up with guys last year, how afterwards they would only text him when they were horny again. If anything, those hookups made him feel even more lonely than the absence of a boyfriend in his life.

Michelle sighs, reaching out to grip his hand. “Guys are idiots,” she says with a shrug, “but there’s one out there who’s gonna change your life, and I can’t wait to say ‘I told you so’ when you find him.”

Carlos forces out a grin that he’s sure looks more like a grimace. The truth is, he wants to meet that guy. He really, really wants to meet that guy; he just doesn’t know how. He comes from a large family so full of love that it can be overwhelming sometimes, and he grew up sharing and showing that love. He knows his heart is right there on his sleeve for everyone to see, and he wants more than anything to be able to give it to someone who will take care of it. 

At the end of the day, he’s just a giant romantic looking for his fairytale prince to ride in on horseback and knock him off his feet. He wouldn’t even mind if he was the one riding the horse, as long as there’s a prince.

He feels like he’s tried everything; freshman year and freshly out, he joined Bobcat PRIDE and attended all of the social events that they hosted in those first months. And true, while he didn’t meet the man of his dreams there, he found Paul, so he definitely doesn’t regret it. He’s gone to so many campus (and off-campus) parties in the past two years, but guys falling over their own feet from too many keg stands has never really been his idea of attractive or seductive. He’s hooked up with one or two of the more sober people he’s run into, but things never feel the same the next day, though that’s not always his choice. 

Some days, Carlos feels like he’s doomed to never be wanted for more than a quick fling. It doesn’t matter how many guys tell him he’s sexy, it gets him nowhere closer to finding what he’s looking for.

Carlos is pulled from his thoughts by the arrival of a group at the checkout counter. It’s clearly a freshman and their parents, probably looking for directions to one of the orientation meeting spaces. 

“I’ll see you later, ‘Chelle,” he says, moving back from the counter so that she can give them her attention. She gives him a smile and a wave, already turning towards the newcomers.

Carlos readjusts his grip on his bags of textbooks as he heads down the main steps, lost in his thoughts. It takes him about six minutes to cut across campus to San Marcos Hall, and once inside, he quickly passes by the front desk and moves down the hall towards his suite. 

He’s turning to move down the hall where his room is, already reaching for his keys, when he hears a sudden noise from the stairwell behind him, along with an audible “Damn it!” Carlos stops, looking around to see what’s going on, and finds an older man struggling to pass through the doorway due to the three large boxes he’s carrying. Immediately, Carlos moves forward to help him.

“Here, let me get that for you,” he says, adjusting to take his own bags in one hand so that he can hold the door open for the man. 

“Thank you,” a voice says, followed by a face peeking around a box to see him. “I wasn’t having any problems until I got to the doors.”

Carlos nods, a smile pulling at his lips as he notices the kind, almost-youthful energy ebbing from the man. His face is slightly weathered, his hair peppered with gray, but there’s a brightness in his eyes that makes him seem much younger than he probably is. He passes through the door, allowing Carlos to release it behind him, the heavy metal causing it to bang loudly shut.

“Do you want me to take one of those for you?” Carlos asks, gesturing to the boxes. The man pauses, almost as if he’s taking stock of himself, before shaking his head.  
  


“I think I’ve got it,” he replies, his voice almost dancing over the words. “Would you happen to know where Room 123 is, though? They told me this entrance was closest to it.”

Carlos freezes for a moment, staring at the man as he processes the simple question. 

“You okay, son?” the man asks after a moment of awkward silence, and Carlos shakes himself, quickly giving the man an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, 123 is right down here,” he says, pointing as he starts to lead the way. “It’s actually my suite, so I’m going to roll the dice and guess that you’re Tyler’s dad?”

The man grinds to a sudden halt, and Carlos darts forward, ready to grab a box to help if necessary. Except, he realizes, the man isn’t struggling to keep himself upright because of the weight of the boxes, but because of the force of his laughter.

“Oh my god, you know his name,” the guy breathes out, struggling to catch his breath, and Carlos wonders if he’s witnessing a stroke or something. That’s really all he needs, for his mystery roommate’s dad to collapse in front of him. “He is going to _hate_ that.”

Carlos stops at the door to Room 123, shoving his key into the lock as his mind vaguely wonders if it’s too late to request a room transfer. When the door opens, he finds his suite exactly how he left it almost an hour ago. Wherever Tyler Strand is, he seems determined to remain a mystery. 

“Oh wow, this is nice,” Tyler’s dad says, moving into the room and setting the boxes down in front of the mini-fridge. When he stands up again, he holds out his hand to Carlos. “Owen Strand.”

“Carlos. Reyes,” he awkwardly states, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches Owen take in the rest of the room. He notices the exact moment that Owen spots the flag in the window, surprised when the man’s face softens, his eyes almost twinkling as he smiles.

“You know, I like that one so much better than the old design,” Owen tells him, pointing towards the window. “TK made sure I replaced the one we had hanging at my fire station as soon as possible, said he didn’t want me to exclude anyone by accident.”

Carlos feels his breath catch in his throat as Owen gives him a meaningful look. Every single fear, every hesitation that has been rolling through his mind for the past week is instantly silenced by those words. He may not really know anything about his new roommate, but at least he doesn’t seem to be a bigot. 

“Um, the room’s through there,” Carlos says, breaking the silence to point towards the suite across the common space. Owen turns, making to step through, when his phone chimes from his pocket. He pulls it out, reading the message on the screen.

“TK’s at the door to the stairwell,” he shares, glancing down at the boxes next to him. Carlos doesn’t really know him at all, but the older man seems a little tired, his energy almost fading the longer he watches him.

“Sir, why don’t I-”

“Owen,” Owen cuts him off, giving him a gentle, but pointed look.

“Owen,” Carlos concedes, “why don’t I help TK carry his boxes inside, and you can start moving these ones into the room? I’m all unpacked, so all open areas are fair game.”

The older man studies him for a moment before nodding, clapping his hands together. “Carlos, that sounds like an excellent plan.”

Carlos turns, reaching for the door handle. He pauses, looking back towards Owen. “There’s water in the fridge, if you’re at all thirsty.”

“Thanks,” Owen says, reaching out for the box on top of the stack. “Oh, and Carlos? Word of advice: unless you want to be on the receiving end of a look of complete and utter disgust, I wouldn’t let TK know that you know his first name.”

Carlos lets out a laugh at the absurd warning, shaking his head as he pulls open the door. 

He still tucks that information away for later.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

Carlos Reyes is completely unprepared for the moment when he meets TK Strand.

He’s so distracted when he pushes open the side stairwell door, his thoughts still on the hopeful revelations from his conversation with Owen, that he doesn’t realize there’s someone standing just on the other side. The exterior door makes contact with that person’s face, and Carlos hears a small, unmistakable cry of pain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he cries out, darting through the door and reaching out for the other person. “Shit, are you okay?”

The guy doesn’t answer him, instead bending over to hold his head in his hands as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he grits out through clenched teeth, throwing his head back as he holds his forehead. Carlos feels panic racing through him.

“I really am so sorry,” he says weakly, wringing his hands together. “I can get some ice. Actually, I’m gonna go do that. I’ll be right back.”

He turns around, reaching for his ID to swipe them into the building, freezing in place when he feels a soft, but firm hand on his wrist. The touch sends an unexpected shock through his entire body.

“Wait, wait, it’s fine,” the guy hurries to say. “I’ll be fine. My dad will be here any moment, and I swear he’ll tell you the same thing. I have a hard head, I promise.”

Carlos eyes the other man as his mind puts all of the context clues together.

“You’re TK.”

The guy brings his hand away from his face, staring at Carlos with raised eyebrows. Carlos stares back, suddenly mesmerized by the person standing before him.

TK looks a lot like his dad, with the same short brown hair (sans the grey) and angular face. Carlos can’t help it when his eyes scan him from head-to-toe, noticing TK’s lean but clearly muscular body, obvious even under his light blue shorts and short-sleeved button-up shirt. Carlos takes in his face, those expressive eyebrows under a slightly red forehead. His eyes shine brightly in the sunlight, the green irises holding Carlos trapped within their gaze.

TK Strand is gorgeous.

“Yeah, I am,” TK replies, his confusion clear in his voice. “Sorry, have we met?”

“Um, no,” Carlos says, holding out his hand. “Carlos Reyes. I’m your new roommate.”

TK’s eyebrows shoot even higher, his gaze dropping down momentarily to take Carlos in.

“Well, I definitely was not expecting _you_ ,” he says, shaking Carlos’s hand. It could just be his imagination, but Carlos swears that a strange energy passes between them again from where their skin touches. The moment is over before he can read too far into it, though.

“I left your dad to unpack the boxes he carried in,” Carlos explains. “I figured it might just be easier for us to get the rest.”

“Oh, okay, cool,” TK says, a grin lighting up his face. He turns away to head towards a black truck parked nearby, and Carlos follows. “That makes me feel way better, actually. He insisted on carrying those first three boxes and I honestly wasn’t sure he’d make it.”

“He got a little caught up in the door, but we figured it out,” Carlos assures him, watching as TK drops the tailgate and reaches for the nearest box. Carlos notices there are only five or so left, surprised that TK brought so few things with him. 

“Thanks for helping,” TK says, once they each have their boxes and are moving back towards the building. “I really appreciate it, man.”

“Of course, it’s really not a problem.” Carlos swipes his card at the door, hearing the lock click open. He quickly shifts the boxes in his arms, grabbing the handle to pull it. TK enters first, and then Carlos leads them down the hall towards their suite. “So, what year are you?”

“I'm a junior. You?”

“Same, criminal justice.”

“Nice,” TK says, staring at the room numbers as they pass. They both slow down when they get to 123, Carlos once again inserting his key to unlock it. “I’m studying biology.”

“Oh, hey boys,” Owen calls out to them as they walk through the door. His eyes widen when they land on his son. “TK, your forehead’s really red.”

“Yeah,” TK says, setting his boxes down and rubbing at the small bump that’s formed above his right eyebrow. “I had a run in with a door.”

“Well, thank god you’re hard-headed,” Owen jokes, reaching out to grip TK’s shoulder as he takes a closer look at the injury. Carlos turns away so that he’s not just staring creepily at the two of them.

“So, I was thinking I could go get your textbooks while you two finish carrying in the boxes,” Owen says after a moment, and Carlos watches as TK gives his father a serious look.

“Since when are you trying to get out of showing off?” he asks, his eyes thinning as he looks closely at Owen. “Are you feeling okay, Dad?” 

“Oh, I’m totally fine, I just thought it’d be easier to have your books taken care of,” Owen explains, his eyes wide. “But I can stay and carry in more boxes if you need me to.”

Carlos decides that he probably doesn’t need to stand around and watch them like a weirdo, so he quickly ducks into his room. He sees that Owen has already started unpacking the first boxes, placing things on the nightstand and mattress for TK to then put wherever he wants them.

After a few minutes, during which Carlos pretends that he can’t clearly hear the conversation through the open bedroom door, the sound of the hall door closing causes him to glance up from where he’s seated at his desk. TK enters the room, box in hand, peering briefly into the shower room before stepping towards the main part of their shared space.

“This is actually really nice,” he says casually, his eyes running over the pictures on Carlos’s wall as he puts the box down on his bed. “For planning to never have to live on-campus again, I think I could’ve done a lot worse.”

“Why did you suddenly decide to live on-campus this year?”

The question pours out of his mouth before his brain can stop it, the words hanging in the silence between them. He watches as TK’s grip on the box in front of him tightens, and a heavy guilt rushes through him.

“That was so rude of me, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, shaking his head as he turns back to his desk, reaching for something to keep him busy. Between whacking TK with the door and asking invasive questions, the two of them are already off to a bit of a rough start, and it's entirely his fault.

He hears TK shift behind him, but it isn’t until he speaks again that Carlos realizes he’s moved closer. 

“That’s a beautiful portrait of her.”

Carlos looks back at him, following TK’s gaze to the poster of Marsha P. Johnson hanging over his bed. It’s the same one he almost took down a few hours ago.

“I love that quote, too,” TK adds, turning his head to give Carlos a soft smile. “Very apropos, actually.”

Carlos raises his brow in question, wondering what he could possibly mean by that. TK lets out a sigh before dropping down to sit at the end of Carlos’s bed. It’s a bold move, considering they barely know each other, but one he finds that he doesn’t actually mind. He’s too captivated by this unexpected man to mind much of anything.

“I was supposed to live off-campus this year with my boyfriend and some of his friends,” TK starts, avoiding eye contact as he looks down at his fingers, picking at his nails. “He broke up with me a week ago, told me he was in love with some other guy, just like that. So, here we are: a ‘cumulative reality,’ as Marsha would call it.”

Carlos watches as TK swallows hard, blinking a little faster than normal. Before he can say anything, his roommate rises from the bed, moving back towards the door, probably to grab another box from the truck. Carlos decides to let him go alone this time, to give him a moment by himself, but he doesn’t want to extend the awkward silence longer than necessary.

“Hey, TK?” 

He stops in the doorway, turning back to look at him. Carlos can see that his eyes are glossy, but he’s doing his best to stop the tears from falling.

“I know I don’t know you super well yet, but I think you're ex is a huge idiot,” Carlos says, his voice a little harsher than he intended. "And, for whatever it's worth," he continues, softening, "I'm glad you're here."

TK stares at him for a moment before his face breaks into a small smile. “Me too, Carlos.”

He heads out, leaving Carlos alone at his desk, pondering over the cumulative reality of this moment. He’s not sure, but meeting TK has almost felt like an inevitability in some way.

Almost like fate meant for it to happen. 

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Marsha P. Johnson quote referred to at the end is: "History isn't something you look back at and say it was inevitable, it happens because people make decisions that are sometimes very impulsive and of the moment, but those moments are cumulative realities."
> 
> Thanks for giving this a shot! I've never written a multi-chapter before, and I'm honestly a little terrified about posting something that's unfinished. Any kind words you can share will make it much less daunting.
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


	2. September | Falling Into Familiar Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely response to this fic! The absolute madness of the past week delayed the writing of this chapter, but I am hoping to establish a regular schedule for updates in the next few weeks. 
> 
> Enjoy!

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

By mid-September, Carlos feels like he and TK are well on their way to becoming really good friends.

It’s honestly a little weird how quickly they fall into an easy, casual relationship with one another. Certainly, based on that first meeting, Carlos would’ve sworn that things were doomed to be awkward between them for a really long time, with him continuing to stumble over his words and asking dumb questions, and TK ultimately deciding that they should probably just never speak. To be safe. 

But that’s not what happens. Instead, they just… work. They work really well, actually.

Sure, they don’t talk about how TK cried in front of Carlos about his ex-boyfriend, or how the wounds from the sudden breakup are still clearly raw. Carlos learned his lesson from that first day, and he makes sure not to ask any questions or say anything that might dredge up the pain that TK is clearly still feeling. 

Except, he still notices certain, small things, because they’re Carlos and TK, and for some strange reason, Carlos feels like he was made to always notice the other man. 

Like, he’ll notice how TK will cut himself off in the middle of sentences, almost like someone flipped a switch in his brain. It happens often enough, and after a few times Carlos realizes that the conversation was heading in the direction of a memory featuring his ex, or one of his old friends. That’s something else that Carlos has noticed: TK doesn’t seem to spend a lot of time outside of their suite when he’s not in class, almost like he’s brand new to TSU and has yet to meet anybody. It takes him a few days to realize that, had TK had other people to lean on, he probably wouldn’t have had to sign-up for housing at the very last minute, and that thought makes him want to wrap the other man in his arms and protect him from all of the people who apparently abandoned him after he was dumped. 

He’s always had a protective instinct, and with TK that impulse feels multiplied by about a million, though he’s not completely sure why.

He doesn’t wrap him in his arms, though, knowing that it’s probably better for his sanity if they don’t do that kind of thing. Instead, he encourages them - himself, TK, Paul, and Mateo - to hang out when they can. He’s not interested in forcing anything between them, he just wants their space to feel like a home for all of them. Luckily, TK doesn’t only get along with Carlos; in fact, he seems to get along with everyone.

Mateo likes to spend a lot of his free time with his girlfriend, Maya, so they don’t see too much of him, but when they do, he and TK like to tease Paul about his on-again-off-again relationship with Josie, a senior philosophy major. In turn, Paul and TK equally gang up on Mateo about his relationship with Maya. Carlos likes to sit on the sidelines and watch, happy to be a neutral party - which leads all three of them to then tease him for his constant conflict avoidance. The four of them do dinner together when they can, and sometimes they’re joined by Grace and Marjan, when the girls are on-campus in the evening.

Grace is completely enamored with TK, not that Carlos can really blame her; he doesn’t see how anyone could dislike TK after talking to him. When Grace finds out that TK’s dad is a fire captain in Austin, they bond over the stress of being so close to firefighters, with Grace citing her boyfriend Judd as the reason for her most anxious moments. Grace sought Carlos out after one of Judd’s near-accidents while on-call during their second week of classes, but it was actually TK who ended up calming her down. He sat with her on the couch and rubbed her back, telling her that Judd was trained for all kinds of scary situations, and that he would always be as careful as possible, for her sake if not for his own. Carlos can still feel the way his heart pounded in his chest as he watched the two of them hold each other, completely spellbound by how open and loving TK was with someone he barely even knew.

Marjan and TK meeting, however, has turned out to be one of the most dangerous things to happen to TSU in years. Carlos still remembers the glint that appeared in each of their eyes the first time they spoke, like they had just found a long-lost fellow wild child. No conversation between them goes by without the issuing of a challenge, and they certainly bring out each other’s competitive nature, determined to one-up each other until the end of time. Carlos is just thankful that he has Grace to help him keep them both from causing bodily harm to themselves and others.

“Those two are going to end up chasing each other off a cliff one day,” Grace mutters next to him, and he follows her gaze to where TK and Marjan are weaving through the columns in front of Neiman Marcus, bags swinging from their hands as they race each other to wherever they’ve determined the finish line to be. “Promise me you won’t follow them over the edge just to try to save one of them?”

Carlos huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he leans into her side. “Of course not, Gracie,” he says softly, his smile widening as he watches TK give a victory whoop in the distance, followed by Marjan yelling in defeat. “I’m sticking with you, you’re much less life-threatening.” 

It’s a gorgeous fall Saturday morning, and they’re exploring the premium outlet mall after TK mentioned wanting to go shopping earlier in the week. Paul and Mateo each had plans with their girlfriends, and hadn’t seemed too interested in a shopping trip anyhow, so it’s just the two pairs of roommates causing disruption and dismay out in the community. 

Carlos and Grace finally catch up to the other two, TK currently hunched over to catch his breath as Marjan stands next to him, eyebrow arched in judgement. 

“You’re really out of shape, Strand,” she says, a smirk forming at the corner of her mouth.

“Rude of you to point it out, Marwani,” he gasps out, standing tall and placing his hands on his hips as his chest rises and falls. He makes eye contact with Carlos, who can’t help the way his heart starts racing at the sight of slightly-blown pupils directed at him. “Why do you think I’m getting new workout clothes? I’m gonna have Carlos train me.”

“Me?” Carlos asks, his voice rising in surprise at the suggestion. “Why me?”

TK scoffs. “Dude,” he says, reaching out for Carlos’s arm, “you’re built like a Greek god. Who else would I ask to train me?”

Carlos feels TK squeeze his bicep playfully, his heart hammering in his throat at the action. He’s not surprised when an image of him and TK working out together, both covered in sweat and breathing heavily, quickly flashes through his mind. He swallows, his skin suddenly feeling itchy and uncomfortable as TK looks at him with those striking green eyes of his. Carlos wills his breathing to stay as normal as possible, trying to limit the effect that a look from TK has on him.

“Carlos and I are in need of a caffeine fix,” Grace cuts in, breaking the silence, and Carlos turns to find her giving him a penetrating stare. She blinks, then immediately turns to the others. “What about you two?”

“Sounds good,” Marjan pipes up, looking out across the parking lot. “TK and I were going to look at some new sunglasses, so we could meet you at Starbucks in about 10 minutes?”

“We’ll grab a table,” Grace assures her, linking her arm with Carlos and pulling him in the direction of the coffee shop. He turns, watching as Marjan does the same with TK, dragging him off in the other direction. Carlos can’t help but smile helplessly when TK looks back to give him a wink, wondering if he’ll ever get used to all the different ways his roommate makes him feel.

Starbucks isn’t too crazy busy, since they waited long enough for the opening rush to die down. Carlos spots a number of empty tables both inside and outside, so he and Grace both join the short line, knowing that they’ll have no problem grabbing a table once they have their drinks. 

They don’t speak as they wait, and Carlos is grateful for the silence. He’s still trying to calm himself from their conversation with TK and Marjan. He knows, deep down, why TK causes such a reaction in him every time he so much as looks his way, but he’s not ready to admit it. Those feelings will just complicate their relationship, and they spend too much time together for it to get complicated. 

Grace is rattling off her drink order in front of him when Carlos shakes himself from his thoughts, his heartbeat finally settling back down to normal. When he steps up to the register after Grace, he immediately orders a grande caramel mocha with extra caramel and whipped cream on top - the way he knows TK likes it - and his own dark roast with a splash of vanilla. Before he can second-guess himself, he adds a slice of lemon cake, knowing that TK will help him finish it if he doesn’t eat it all. He holds his phone up to pay before stepping back from the counter, finding Grace unexpectedly lingering at his side. Her raised eyebrow and knowing smirk immediately causes a blush to rise on the back of his neck.

“What?” he asks, avoiding her eyes as they move to the pick-up counter. She continues to stare at him, her dark eyes glinting wickedly, and Carlos wishes the ground would swallow him up so that he can avoid whatever conversation she’s about to begin.

“Did you just order TK’s drink?” 

The question doesn’t completely surprise him, nor does the blush that continues to rise up his neck. He feels heat on his cheeks as he tries to maintain an indifferent expression.

“Yeah?”

“You rattled that off like you’d done it a million times,” she explains, her brows furrowed as she looks up at him.

“Oh, well we have the same start time on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so we get coffee together before class,” he shares, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck as he looks over her head. “I guess I just overheard him say it once or twice,” he shrugs. 

“Carlos, we’ve been friends for years and I would still have to double-check your order if I ever wanted to buy you a coffee,” Grace says, crossing her arms in front of her. “Do you know my order?”

There’s a moment where they stare at one another, and Carlos realizes that she sees right through him. “It’s not a big deal, Gracie,” he mutters, twisting his fingers together. She reaches out for him, grasping his hand in her own, but before she can speak, they hear their names being called at the counter.

They pick a table outside, glad to have the time to enjoy the warm September weather that Texas gifts them. Carlos pulls out his phone again, letting the renewed silence linger as he scrolls through his Instagram feed. He notices that Marjan has posted a story, and he opens it to find her and TK conducting a photoshoot at the Sunglass Hut. His gaze lingers on TK’s smile as he trades out different pairs of glasses, his child-like joy clear even through the phone. 

“Judd told me once how he knew I liked peanut M&Ms before he ever spoke to me,” Grace suddenly pipes up from across the table. Carlos shoots her a confused look, taken aback by the statement, and she rolls her eyes, rushing to explain. “He said he used to notice how I would bring them to all of Gurman’s classes, and it just stuck in his mind, like he couldn’t help but remember it.”

Carlos smiles, his mind recalling big cowboy Judd Ryder sliding a package of Grace’s favorite candy across the table to her in the dining hall freshman year. The guy had been incredibly intimidating at first, both due to his size and the fact that he was three years older than them, but Carlos had quickly realized that the man was just a giant teddy bear - especially around Grace. 

“That man is so gone for you, Gracie,” Carlos says, sharing a bright smile with her. He knows it’s hard for them to be separated so much during the school year, since Judd graduated. “When’s he visiting?”

“He has a day off next week, so he’s coming down. I think we’re going to go riding. He really wanted to be here for Halloween, but work is going to be too crazy, since people tend to be idiots,” she says, and Carlos watches as she bites the inside of her cheek, no doubt imagining all the trouble her firefighter boyfriend might get into next month. “Don’t worry though, he’s already asked for Friendsgathering weekend off, so he’ll be here for that.”

Carlos nods, giving her an encouraging smile. “Good, it wouldn’t be the same without him.”

Friendsgathering is their self-named, annual group dinner the weekend before Thanksgiving break. Carlos likes to think of it as an anti-Thanksgiving in a lot of ways. They’ve been doing it for the past two years, and he hopes they’ll find a way to continue it once they’ve all graduated; it’s nice to know that Judd wants to still be a part of it, too.

“Yeah, it’ll be nice,” Grace says, staring him down, “but don’t try to change the subject, Carlos Reyes.”

“I don’t even know what the subject is, Grace,” he contests, raising his arms in surrender.

“We were talking about noticing and remembering things about people,” she reminds him, her eyebrow arched. “Things like a person’s favorite candy, or their coffee order.”

He ducks his head, staring down at the drink in question. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Why can’t it be?” she questions, reaching across the table for his hand. “What’s stopping you?”

“We’re just now settling into being friends and roommates,” he states, hoping to end the discussion. “I’m not going to complicate that.”

“But…” she urges.

He sighs, knowing she won’t let it go until he gives her something. “But,” he starts, glaring at her, “I like him.”

“Well, yeah, I knew that. It’s a good place to start,” Grace nods, pulling her hand away to sip her drink, “but don’t you dare deny yourself happiness, Carlos, or twist yourself in knots over your feelings. You deserve to get what you want sometimes, too.”

He opens his mouth to respond, planning to mention that TK is fresh off a breakup and shouldn’t have to deal with his feelings, when a shadow falls over their table. He looks up to find that Marjan and TK have rejoined them.

“Oh, you got my drink,” TK says, reaching forward to grab it and take a sip. He lets out a sigh, his face lighting up as he steps into Carlos’s space. “Thanks,” he says softly as he drops into the chair next to him. Carlos smiles back, watching as TK glances down at the table again, this time spotting the bakery bag. “Is that what I think it is?” he asks, his eyes bright with excitement.

Carlos rolls his eyes, sliding the bag towards him. TK breaks off a piece of cake, shoving it into his mouth and letting out a groan that Carlos definitely tries hard not to hear. “I fucking love their lemon cake,” he moans, his mouth still full. Carlos can feel Grace’s eyes on him, but he refuses to make eye contact. 

“This is random, but they’re doing one of those movie premieres in Old Main tomorrow afternoon, some new romantic comedy. You guys wanna check it out?” Marjan asks, digging through her bag. Carlos watches her pull out a flyer that she clearly picked up from campus with the details, along with her wallet. She drops the flyer on the table in front of them.  
  


“That could be fun,” TK agrees, shoving another piece of cake into his mouth.

“I can’t,” Carlos says, reaching for his drink, glancing at the flyer as he does so. “Paul and I will be in Austin.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Marjan says. “I’m glad you guys are doing that again this year.”

She steps away from the table, off to order her drink. TK turns towards him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s in Austin?”

“Carlos didn’t tell you?” Grace jumps in for him, throwing him a look. “He and Paul volunteer at an LGBTQIA+ drop-in youth center in Austin every other weekend.”

Carlos watches as TK’s mouth drops open, his eyes darting back to him. “You do?”

“Sorry, I thought we had mentioned it at some point,” Carlos apologizes, hoping that TK’s not hurt by the omission. “We went as part of a Bobcat PRIDE volunteer event freshman year and decided to keep going, since it’s only a 40-minute drive.” 

Carlos watches as TK’s gaze softens, his eyes shining in the sunlight. “You could come with us sometime, if you wanted,” he adds. “They’re always looking for more volunteers. There’s just an interview and background check, and then some training. It’s not too hard.”

TK blinks rapidly, looking down at the drink in his hand. Carlos watches him fiddle with the straw. 

“I’ve never even thought about doing something like that,” he admits after a moment, his face pinched. “That’s so amazing that you and Paul do that.”

Carlos shrugs, taking a sip of his drink as he feels another blush rise on his cheeks at the compliment. “It’s nice, getting to talk to kids who are going through the same things we went through. It’s something that I would’ve loved to have had in high school, but I just didn’t know about it.”

TK nods, his gaze far away. “I think it sounds incredible,” he finally says, turning back to Carlos. “You’re never going to stop surprising me, are you, Reyes?”

This time, Carlos just surrenders to the flush that rises on his face, knowing there’s no escape from it.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“You know, you could go talk to them,” Carlos says gently, trying not to push too hard. He wasn’t planning to say anything at all, but after spending ten minutes watching Lupe’s eyes shift over to the far corner of the room, he finally decided it couldn’t hurt. In a way, it’s what he’s here for.

Lupe’s eyes widen as she looks across the table at him. She lets out a sigh befitting of a dramatic sixteen-year-old before dropping her head down to the table. He can’t help to notice how she turns her head to the side so that she can still keep an eye on the far corner, where a group of teens are playing video games. 

Carlos sits back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at the girl in front of him. He’s known Lupe since she started coming to Out Youth three months ago; since he was home in Austin during the summer, he volunteered weekly at the Drop-in Center. Week after week, he and Lupe would get into conversations about their crazy older sisters and now, after so much time, it’s a given that they check-in with each other during hang out. 

He looks around, watching as the teens, counselors, and volunteers mingle throughout the space. Carlos notices that no one is sitting off on their own this week, which settles him a bit. It can always be challenging when kids drop-in for the first time, obviously nervous to be there and to meet so many strangers. They only had one new person this weekend, and Carlos spots Piper scanning the bookshelves with Rosalie, a self-identified bookworm. 

“Why are crushes so stupid?” Lupe questions, and Carlos refocuses on her, noticing that she’s shifted to rest her chin on the table as she looks up at him. He gives her a sad smile, leaning down to rest his own chin on the table, so that they’re at the same level.

“Are you implying that you have a crush on someone, Lupe?” 

“Don’t play dumb, it’s not cute,” she fires back, glaring at him. The seriousness of her look reminds him of growing up with his three sisters, and he bites his lip to keep from laughing. Something tells him that she wouldn’t appreciate that reaction from him. 

“Are you finally ready to talk about a certain someone that you’ve been eyeing for the past three weeks?” he asks, lifting his head slightly to fold his arms on the table, settling his chin back down on top of them.

“Do I have to?” she whines, glancing once more towards the far corner. 

“Of course not, but I’m happy to listen if you want to,” he reminds her. He’s sure this isn’t her first crush, but he knows from experience that they don’t get any easier, no matter how many you’ve had before. A familiar face flashes through his mind, almost as if to try to prove his point, but he ignores it, focusing on Lupe.

“It’s just…,” Lupe starts, sitting up and running her fingers through her hair. “It’s really confusing. I thought I was looking for one thing, and now… I just don’t know.”

Carlos nods, trying to piece together her disjointed thoughts. He thinks he knows what she’s talking about, but he can’t be sure.

“Did you think you were looking for a person who presented a certain way?” he asks. “Like, did you think you were looking for a certain gender, and someone that presented as that gender?”

Lupe nods, biting her lip. 

“I know we’ve talked about this during group, but it’s okay to not know, Lupe,” Carlos says, folding his hands together. “And it’s okay to feel like you identify as one thing, and then meet new people or learn new things, and realize that you actually identify as something different.

“The label doesn’t have to be important. It can be, if you want it to be. For some people, labels give them security, but they aren’t the only way to feel secure,” he continues. “And sometimes, labels can be isolating, when you feel forced into one.”

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I just, I wasn’t expecting Kai, or to suddenly feel this way about them.”

Carlos smiles, nodding. “Sometimes the people who end up affecting us the most show up in completely unexpected ways.”

His mind flashes to a recent memory, featuring a door and a face and a painful introduction.

“I know trying to figure out your label can feel really important right now, that it can answer a lot of questions and lead you to others just like you,” he adds, “but don’t let that get in the way of meeting and connecting with new people who aren’t like you. 

“So, Kai might not be who you expected, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get to know them better,” Carlos finishes. “To do that, though, you’re going to have to actually talk to them at some point.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that? I feel so stupid when I look at them, and my throat closes up and I can’t say anything.”

Carlos looks off to the far corner of the room, where Kai is currently playing a video game, surrounded by a few other teens.

“Kai likes video games,” he says, turning back towards Lupe. “You could ask them to show you how to play, or just ask them about the game. Start a conversation, something simple. No matter what, it’s going to feel big, crushes are stupid like that. So, pick something really easy, something that makes you feel comfortable.”

Lupe nods, considering his words. She looks towards the corner, and then suddenly stands from the table.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks, sitting up straight.

“Okay,” she repeats, chest heaving as she breathes deeply. “If I puke on them, I’m blaming you.”

He laughs gently. “Deal. Just breathe, and don’t force everything at once. Let it happen, Lupe.”

She steps away from the table, making no indication that she heard anything he just said, and slowly moves across the space towards the far corner. Carlos watches as she sinks down onto the empty couch cushion next to Kai, who glances her way when they notice her. He watches Lupe’s shoulders relax as she leans back on the couch, and he takes that as a pretty good sign that she can handle it.

He spends the remaining hour of Drop-in scouring the bookshelves for new books. He likes to take three or four home each time he and Paul visit, just to give him something to read between his assigned materials. TK likes to joke that he’s never seen him without a book in his hands, and honestly, it’s probably true. He can’t help it, he just likes to read.

Paul finds him at the end of the night; Carlos had seen him during the group meeting early, but they like to stay separate as much as possible during the hang out periods; it’s easier for the kids to approach them when all the volunteers aren’t grouped together. 

“You want to grab some tacos next door?” he asks, their usual post-volunteering tradition. Carlos nods, tucking his books under his arm. 

When they’re finally on the road back to San Marcos, stomachs full of Tyson’s Tacos, they fill each other in on their evenings. One of the reasons they like to go to Out Youth as a pair is so that they can decompress on the way home. Some days are harder than others, but it’s nice to have someone to share things with who gets it.

“Lupe talked to Kai for the first time today,” Carlos reports, knowing that Paul will understand how big of a deal that is for her.

“Finally,” Paul nearly yells, giving a whoop in celebration. “How’d you make that happen?”

“I had very little to do with it, it was all her,” Carlos evades, flicking on the turn signal and switching lanes to pass the car in front of them. “I just told her to take it one step at a time, don’t worry about labels, and start simple.”

“Hmm,” Paul responds, giving him a look as Carlos shifts back to the right lane. “Interesting.”

“What is?” he asks, his heart hammering at the expression on Paul’s face. He has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“It’s good advice,” his friend admits, nodding. “Maybe you should consider taking it.”

“Oh, not you, too,” Carlos groans. “I already heard this from Grace yesterday.”

“Are you really surprised by that?” Paul asks, laughing at Carlos’s annoyance. “We know you better than anyone, and that means we know you’re probably tying yourself in knots over TK.”

“Don’t,” he presses, looking away for a moment.

“I’ll leave it, I’ll leave it,” Paul assures him. “We don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re wanting to keep it a secret, you’re going to have to do a better job of hiding it, man. That’s all I’ll say.”

Carlos’s mind keeps him occupied for the rest of the drive, and he has a hard time falling asleep that night. 

The soft sound of TK breathing from the other side of the room does nothing to help. 

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“Hey, on what floor can I find the collection of people who regret majoring in biology and wish to switch to something less strenuous? I’m thinking water polo, or reality TV star.”

Carlos can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips at the random question. He adjusts his glasses on his face, looking away from the computer in front of him to find TK leaning over the checkout desk, a pleading look on his face that clearly says “ _put me out of my misery, I’m begging you._ ” 

“Sir, this is the checkout desk,” Carlos smirks back as he stands to lean over the desk, bringing their faces closer together. “The Ask Alkek Desk is one floor down.”

TK rolls his eyes, and Carlos can tell that he’s struggling to keep up his miserable act. 

“This is not very good customer service,” he pouts, his green eyes glinting mischievously. “I’d like to speak to your supervisor.”

“Michelle isn’t working tonight, but I can give you her card, if you want it,” Carlos responds, shifting away from the desk to grab one of her business cards. Before he can get too far, TK’s hand darts forward to grab his wrist, stopping him. 

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” TK whines, collapsing onto the counter between them. Carlos looks around quickly to make sure nobody’s waiting for help and, seeing no one, makes no move to alter TK’s behavior.

They’re nearly six weeks into the semester now, and TK has made a habit of setting up shop on the third floor of the library whenever Carlos is working. It doesn’t happen every week, sure, but whenever he clocks in and spots TK hunched over a nearby table in the commons, his laptop and books spread out before him, Carlos knows he’s in for a good night at work. They’re both pretty studious, but TK has a much shorter attention span, and his frequent forays up to the checkout desk throughout the evening definitely help to make the time go by faster. 

“So,” Carlos starts, shifting over to the computer as he stares down at the back of TK’s head, currently laying on the desk, “water polo and reality TV? Those are your backup plans?”

“They seem like they would be simple areas of study,” TK says, his voice muffled from where his face is pressed to the desk.

“When you find out how to get a degree in starring in a reality TV show, please let me know. You’ve piqued my interest.”

TK lets out a laugh, and Carlos smiles, his eyes back on the computer in front of him. He’s finishing up an essay that’s due tomorrow, and once he’s done with it, he can spend the rest of his shift reading and humoring his roommate. 

“I’m gonna head downstairs to Starbucks, you want me to grab you anything?” TK asks when he finally lifts his head from the desk. Carlos notices how his face is red where it was pressed against the surface, and he tries very hard not to let out a sigh at how adorable that looks.

“Nothing caffeinated,” Carlos confirms, “I’m only here until 10 and I don’t need to be up late tonight.”

“Your well-adjusted sleep and study schedule is going to be the reason why I murder you in the middle of the night, you know that right?” TK says, glaring at him. Carlos looks his way, his eyes widening - not in fear, but concern. “Like, why can’t you be sleep-deprived and addicted to caffeine like the rest of us?”

“Sorry to disappoint?” Carlos apologizes noncommittally, reaching up to adjust his glasses. 

“See, that’s the problem, though. You’re not at all disappointing,” TK declares, shaking his finger at him as he slides down the counter to stand in front of him. “You’re perfect and awesome, and honestly, I can’t even wrap my head around how you exist most days.”

Carlos feels his pulse accelerate, his heart lodged in the back of his throat as silence falls between them. They stare at one another, green eyes locked onto brown, in a moment that feels charged with an electricity so intense that it steals the breath right out of his lungs.

In the time that they’ve known each other, these moments keep happening between them. They’re always sudden, freezing everything around them, and they linger with Carlos like an itch under his skin that he just can’t reach. He’s never felt something like it with anyone else, and he knows it means something, he just can’t figure out what.

He can’t ask Paul or Grace. For the past few weeks, they’ve avoided talking about his relationship with TK, and he’s beyond grateful. He knows they think he should ask TK out, but he just can’t figure out how to do that without possibly ruining their living arrangement. He’d rather tamp down any possible feelings that he might have than to make a move and have everything blow up in their faces. He likes TK, he likes living with TK and spending time with TK. He doesn’t want anything to threaten that. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a notification sound, watching as TK reaches into his hoodie pocket for his phone, apologizing for forgetting to put it on silent. Carlos barely hears him over the roaring sound in his ears - a response to both the charged moment from before, and the uncomfortably familiar sound from a gay hookup app that just came from TK’s phone.

He watches as TK swipes up, checking his new message. Carlos stares as he bites down on his bottom lip before quickly texting the person back, his fingers darting across the screen.

“Everything okay?” Carlos dares to ask, knowing that nothing can really be too wrong; it’s not like Grindr is known for deep conversations that lead to harrowing revelations. 

TK finishes his message, slipping his phone back into his pocket, giving Carlos a smile that is obviously forced. “Yeah, everything’s good. So, a juice?”

“What?” Carlos asks, completely thrown by the question.

“You want a juice from Starbucks?” TK asks again.

“Oh, right,” Carlos says, still feeling a little dazed. “Um, yeah, sure. Mango or something would be great, thanks.”

“No problem,” TK says, tapping his fingers on the counter. There’s an awkward tension between them now, something that wasn’t there before the notification broke their bubble. “I’ll be right back.”

Carlos just nods, watching as TK heads down the stairs to the second floor. He closes his eyes, trying to re-orient himself, his head now spinning with a million and one thoughts.

On some level, he had wondered if TK might be back in the dating game. While his roommate spends pretty much every night in their room, there are some times where he comes in late, or leaves suddenly for an hour or so. Carlos has never asked about it, knowing that if TK wanted or needed him to know something, he would tell him.

He’ll admit, he’s still a little surprised to have it confirmed, though.

They still haven’t talked about TK’s ex-boyfriend, past that very first day when TK gave him the Sparknotes version of his living situation. Just based on context clues, Carlos had assumed that they were pretty serious, since they were nearly living together. In addition to never mentioning his ex, TK also hasn’t mentioned many other friends, leading Carlos to believe that he was probably friends with his ex’s friends, and they spent most of their time together. That would be a hard breakup to recover from, even if it did end in betrayal, and Carlos had just thought that TK was probably taking some time for himself.

He shakes himself, taking a deep breath as he stares at the essay on the screen in front of him, the blinking cursor taunting him. With a huff, he goes back to typing, trying to focus on his paper for Research in Criminal Justice. 

One thing he does know for certain: he’s really glad that he didn’t act on his feelings for TK any sooner. It’s clear to him, now that he knows this new information, that the two of them want different things. He would never want to be one guy in a line of others; he doesn’t think his heart would be able to handle that.

They’re definitely better off just being friends. 

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Out Youth](https://www.outyouth.org/dropin-center) actually exists, as does the Tyson's Tacos shop right next door. It's been a lot of fun researching the Austin and San Marcos areas for this fic, though I will never claim 100% accuracy for anything I've written here, as I've never been to Texas.
> 
> Kudos/comments really do mean so much to me, thank you for all the support!
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


	3. October | A Heartbreak Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! I know last chapter's angsty ending left a few of you in pieces, so... let's see how you feel about this chapter. I hope it helps!
> 
> Yes, this is the Halloween chapter, which was definitely supposed to be published over Halloween weekend. And yes, I am aware that it is now Thanksgiving. It is what it is - writing happens when it happens, best laid plans, blah blah blah - I hope you still enjoy it!
> 
> Happy reading!

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“You know, I was super supportive of this crush when it made you look all adorable and lovesick,” Michelle tells him, raising her glass to take a drink, “but now that you look sad and pathetic it’s starting to really bum me out.”

“Wow, thanks Michelle, that actually makes me feel so much better,” Carlos snarks back, rolling his eyes as he takes a heavy pull from his beer. She doesn’t respond, simply raising a judgmental brow before turning back towards the stage to watch the next performance.

He knows that he needs to get over it, that he should move on. This was exactly why he didn’t do anything about his feelings in the first place; he knew how terrible it would be if something happened, if his relationship with TK went south. 

Not that he’s behaved any differently with TK. Ever since he found out that TK was hooking up with guys from Grindr, he’s made sure not to let his own heartbreak show. It’s not his roommate’s fault that Carlos developed ridiculously inappropriate feelings, and it’s also not TK’s fault that he doesn’t feel the same way. Carlos would never do anything to destroy their friendship just because he’s a pathetic mess who was caught off-guard. 

So, instead, he masks his feelings, the same way he’s been masking them since August and that first day he met TK Strand.

Grace and Paul have been really supportive, allowing him to be his mopey and sad self in front of them so that he can be normal around TK. Like Michelle, though, he knows that they’re reaching their limit. 

Which is why, when Michelle mentioned that she was finally doing an open mic night, Carlos jumped at the chance to get off campus for a few hours. It’s something that is entirely TK-free, and it seemed like the perfect balm for his bruised ego and heart. 

He should’ve known that the conversation would eventually turn to TK, though. Michelle spends a good amount of time around the two of them whenever his roommate stops by the library during his shifts and, like Grace and Paul, quickly recognized the depth of Carlos’s feelings for the other man.

“You know he offered to be my wingman?” Carlos says suddenly, the applause of the small crowd throwing him back to the present. 

“He what?” Michelle gasps, her jaw dropping as she looks across the table at him. 

“Yeah,” Carlos nods, leaning forward over the table and tapping his fingers against his bottle. “That night, when he came back up to the desk, there was a guy there checking out. He was asking me a bunch of questions about my favorite books, what I liked to read, and TK seemed to think he was flirting with me.”

“Ooh, I see,” Michelle cuts in, her eyes glinting with excitement over this new scoop. “Was he jealous?”

“Obviously not, Michelle,” Carlos huffs, rubbing at his temples, “considering he then offered to help get me laid.”

Michelle barks out a laugh, throwing her head back as she grabs his arm to steady herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cries, wiping at her eyes. “It’s really not funny, but you’ve got to appreciate the irony.”

“Oh, do I?” 

“He wants to help you get laid without even realizing that he’s the whole reason why you’re not getting any,” she explains. “C’mon, there’s some humor to be found in that, right?”

He tilts his head to the side, glaring daggers at her. After a moment, she finally settles, waving her arms as if to clear the air between them. “Okay, okay, not at all funny,” she admits. “But damn, it feels good to have an ally.”

“An ally?”

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to get you to date for months, and now I have someone else to pester you about it when I’m not around,” she states, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“God, Michelle, please don’t,” he begs. 

“It could be exactly what you need to forget TK,” she hedges, grimacing when he pulls a face. “Okay, obviously not forget him, since you live together, but it could take the edge off a bit. Help you lick your wounds.” She pauses, her eyes practically dancing. “Or at least lick other things.”

Carlos groans, shaking his head as he throws his hands up. He leans back in his chair, wondering how hard it would be to make a quick escape. “And what, Michelle, I’m just supposed to pull a guy out of thin air and ask him to sleep with me?”

Michelle immediately narrows her eyes at him. “Come here,” she says, beckoning him with her finger. He hesitates, unsure if he should trust her, then leans over the table again with a sigh. Sure enough, when he’s closer, Michelle reaches out and whacks him upside the head. 

“Ow!” he yells, reaching up to rub the spot. “What was that for?”

“For being an incredibly attractive idiot, Carlos Reyes,” she fires back, leaning in close. “You clearly haven’t noticed the hottie at the bar giving you bedroom eyes for the past ten minutes.”

Her words cause an immediate flush to flare up the back of Carlos’s neck, almost as if he can suddenly feel the weight of a stranger’s eyes on him. He subtly glances to the left, his gaze finding the guy she’s referring to at the end of the bar. He’s tall, his plaid button-up clinging to his lean torso, a bit of stubble covering his sharp jaw. The man, probably around his age, is nursing his own beer, eyes shifting back-and-forth between the stage and their table. When they make eye contact, Carlos feels his pulse jump under his skin, the guy’s intentions clear as he shoots him a saucy wink. 

He turns back to find Michelle resting her chin on her hand, giving him a look that clearly says “told ya.” He shakes his head, feeling heat on his cheeks as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, weighing his options. He can practically hear his blood pumping through his veins. 

“I’m up next,” Michelle says, rising from the table. She crosses behind him, gripping his shoulders firmly. “Make good choices.”

Carlos doesn’t respond, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his beating heart. A pair of familiar blue-green eyes and a wide, beautiful smile fill his mind before he can stop them. He opens his eyes again, shaking his head to clear the images. 

Maybe Michelle’s right, he thinks. Maybe it would be good to try and forget TK. At least for a moment. 

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“I always forget how obsessed this state is with football,” TK comments as they pass a friendly pick-up game outside the dining hall. They’ve just finished an early dinner after their workout at the rec center and now they’re heading back to their room for the evening.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s homecoming week,” Carlos says, leaning closer to elbow TK’s side. His roommate dodges the attack, sticking his tongue out when he just barely grazes him. “Where’s your school spirit, TK?”

“Hey, you know I’m as much of a Bobcat as any of those people rolling around in the grass,” he says, gesturing widely towards the group. Carlos leans back on instinct to avoid being slapped in the face; after two months, he’s used to TK’s habit of talking with his hands by now, and knows how to avoid injury. “Doesn’t mean I have to go crazy for a sport that is known to cause disturbing amounts of brain damage.”

“Spoken just like a future EMT,” Carlos teases, relishing the glare that TK shoots his way. “You know, I played football in high school,” he adds, looking over towards the cheering crowd as someone is tackled into the grass. “Have you noticed any signs of injury that I should be aware of?”

“Can’t say that I have, but I’ll keep a close eye on you, just in case,” TK assures him, reaching out to pat his forearm gently. Carlos tries and fails to ignore the way his heart dances in his chest at the brief moment of contact. 

He knows he’s hopeless. No one else causes such an intense reaction in him, a fact that was verified a week ago by his random hookup at Michelle’s open mic night. While the guy - Lucas - had been really nice and, under different circumstances, might have been someone he would try to get to know better afterwards, their moment in the bar’s bathroom hadn’t had the desired effect. Instead, Carlos had been unable to focus and enjoy himself, too caught up in how wrong it felt to have Lucas’s hands anywhere on him. They just felt too foreign.

Eventually, he had to pretend that he wasn’t looking to finish and, after getting the guy off with a few well-practiced strokes, escaped the bathroom and pulled Michelle out of the bar as quickly as possible. 

Carlos knows that the smart thing to do would be to distance himself from TK. Paul had even asked him if he wanted to switch rooms, so that he didn’t have to sleep so close to him. Carlos had appreciated the gesture, but he didn’t know how to explain that to TK without putting him in an awkward position. He refuses to make TK feel uncomfortable or guilty about his feelings, so instead he suffers in silence, trying to convince his heart and brain to only see TK as the friend he is and always will be. 

It’s not easy, but he’s willing to learn to live with it. 

“I’m honestly a little shocked that you played football,” TK says, pulling Carlos out of his head as they enter San Marcos Hall. “I mean, you’re certainly built like someone who would, but I just can’t see you willingly slamming someone to the ground. You’re much more of a gentle giant.”

Carlos smiles, rolling his eyes at TK’s assessment of him. It’s not that he disagrees, but he knows how to use his strength when he needs to. “Thank you, I think?” he teases, watching as TK flushes a little. “Honestly, I didn’t really enjoy it, but the coaches were very convincing, and I was good at it. Plus, it helped when applying for scholarships, to show how well I balanced my schoolwork during the season, so it all worked out in the end.”

TK hums, gazing ahead as they slowly make their way down the hall. “NYC schools don’t really offer football, so I never really got into it. Though, my dad still likes to watch games. My mom always joked that it was his inner-Californian showing.”

Carlos smiles, always happy to gain little insights into TK’s life away outside of school. They’ve talked about their families before, late at night when they’re both laying in bed trying to fall asleep. It’s become a thing, for one of them to start a conversation if they’re both still awake. Sometimes, they’ll talk until well-past midnight, sharing secrets or trading dreams for the future. 

The only thing they really avoid talking about is dating. Carlos doesn’t broach the subject, since he has so little to contribute, and he knows that TK still wants to avoid talking about his ex. But, everything else is up for conversation.

It was during one of those talks that Carlos learned how TK moved to Texas from New York when he was a high school junior, and how he initially hated it, resenting his mother for travelling so much for work that he couldn’t stay with her in the city. Carlos had asked, then, why TK had picked Texas for college, if he liked New York so much better.

TK had gone quiet, making Carlos squirm under his sheets, before quietly explaining his dad’s lung cancer diagnosis that came soon after their move. Now, four years later, his dad is in remission, but there was still a lot of uncertainty during his senior year, so he applied to schools that were close to Austin, in case he needed to get home quickly. 

“I don’t regret it,” TK had said, his voice small in their dark room. “The older I get, the more I realize that moving to Texas has been good for me. I was, um, I was going through some stuff in New York right before we moved, and I’m glad that I got away from all of that when I did.”

Carlos hadn’t asked for more information, but had tucked what TK had told him into the back of his mind, glad that he trusted him with so much personal information. In return, Carlos had shared secrets of his own - how he and his three sisters were raised by his mom after his dad died; how he loves them with everything he is and how they love him too, without question. He even shared how he worries that his dad would be disappointed in who he is, though his mom tells him not to. 

“Your dad could never hate you,” TK had interrupted, his voice thick with oncoming sleep as Carlos listened to him shift under the sheets, getting more comfortable. “It’s impossible to hate you, you’re too easy to love.”

The conversation had ended there, the room filling with the sound of TK’s soft snores, but Carlos had lain awake for hours, those last words rolling around in his mind.

They stop in front of the door to their suite, TK reaching inside his pocket for his key. Carlos leans against the door frame, crossing his arms in front of him.

“So I take it you’re not planning to attend the homecoming game on Saturday?” he asks.

“Oh no, I’ll be there,” TK sighs, shaking his head as he pushes against the door, letting them inside. “God forbid I miss a Texas State homecoming game, I might be banished from campus forever.”

Carlos laughs, stepping into their room to empty his gym bag. They had showered at the rec center so that they could eat afterwards. He tosses his dirty clothes in his hamper next to his desk. “I’d be happy to stay by your side and explain the game, if you need me to,” he offers, watching as TK empties his own bag.

“My hero,” TK gushes, feigning a swoon. Carlos sticks his tongue out at him. “Seriously though, I’ll probably enjoy the game more if you’re with me, so I’m definitely taking you up on that offer.”

There’s a natural lull in the conversation as they move around the room, getting comfortable for the evening. Paul and Mateo are both in class tonight, so the two of them drag their computers into the common room. For the past few weeks, they’ve been working their way through scary movies when they both have the free time.

“ _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_ , right?” TK confirms, scrolling through his movie library. 

Carlos hums in agreement, busying himself at the kitchenette. He throws a bag of popcorn in the microwave and pushes start, leaning against the counter to stare out at the room while he waits.

“So, no football in high school,” he says, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Did you do any sports then?”

“I was on the swim team all four years, both here and in New York,” TK shrugs, casting the movie onto the TV. 

Carlos’s brain goes haywire, supplying him with the recent memory of TK in the rec center locker room after their post-workout shower, only a towel around his waist. Seeing his roommate like that now nearly tears him in half, he has no idea what he would have done if he’d seen that TK in high school. 

He would’ve come out sooner, that’s for sure. One look at TK would’ve told him all he needed to know about himself, no additional uncomfortable questioning necessary.

The microwave beeps, causing him to jump. He pulls out the bag, opening it as he moves towards the couch. He drops down next to TK, shoving popcorn in his mouth. When they’re both situated, TK presses play and then leans into his side, reaching for the bag. They’re done enough of these movie nights that Carlos’s body has almost adapted to the feeling of having TK so close to him. Almost. 

And if watching scary movies gives him an excuse to press even closer under the guise of needing protection, TK certainly doesn’t seem to mind. He just pats Carlos’s hand where it holds onto his arm, both of them jumping and clutching at each other during the really intense moments.

Carlos knows he’s playing with fire, but he can’t help it that he loves the burn.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“When did TK say he’d be back?” Paul asks as he appears in the doorway to Carlos and TK’s room. “Oh, wow. When did you decide on that for a costume?”

Carlos turns from where he’s leaning towards the mirror, giving Paul a look. “What? Does it look stupid?” he asks, pulling at the jersey that covers his torso.

“It’s just surprising,” Paul admits, shrugging. “You don’t really scream jock, so it’s weird seeing you as one.”

“You sound like TK,” Carlos says, rolling his eyes as he turns back to the mirror to finish drawing black lines under his eyes. 

“Ah, so you found out your boy likes footballers. This makes sense now.”

“TK actually hates football,” Carlos retorts. 

“He seemed happy enough at the homecoming game,” Paul challenges, crossing his arms over his Black Panther costume.

“Yeah, he did,” Carlos says, a small smile appearing on his face as he remembers cheering on their school team together. For someone who had little knowledge of the game, TK was happy to scream at the top of his lungs along with the rest of the crowd as the Bobcats clinched a homecoming victory. 

“So if he hates football players, why are you dressed like one?” Paul asks, his confusion clear on his face. “I thought the point was to get him to like you.”

“The _point_ ,” Carlos says, his voice hard as he turns to face his friend, “is to be his friend, Paul. I don’t have any ulterior motives here. I’m not trying to convince him to want to be with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Paul says, backing away. Carlos lets out a breath. “Anyway, when did he say he’d be back? We should probably head out soon.”

“Um, right,” Carlos says, shaking his head as he reaches for his phone. He has a new text from TK. “He said he’s just going to head straight to the party, so we should meet him there.”

TK had left a few hours ago, saying that he had to run a quick errand and giving no other details. They were all planning to go to a Halloween frat party right off-campus, and Carlos assumed TK knew how to find his way there; his texts seems to imply that he did at least.

“Cool, I’ll go get Mateo and Maya from upstairs,” Paul says, turning to leave. 

Carlos nods, stepping back from the mirror to take a final look at his costume. He’s wearing his jersey from high school, sans shoulder pads; these parties can get crowded and he already takes up enough space on his own. He looks down, taking in his padded compression pants and shoes.

It had been a last-minute decision, his costume. He always finds it difficult to pick something to wear on Halloween. His conversation with TK had reminded him that he still had his football gear at home, so he had picked it up when he and Paul were in Austin last Sunday. It was better than nothing, and he was definitely counting on some teasing from TK, so that would probably make it worth it. 

They arrive at the party half an hour later. Paul and Josie lead the group inside, dressed as T’Challa and Nakia from _Black Panther_ . Mateo and Maya, right behind them, have also dressed as a movie couple - Héctor and Imelda from _Coco_ , Maya’s makeup design skills really elevating their looks. Without Grace, who’s visiting Judd in Austin for the weekend, or TK, Carlos trails alone behind them. 

The frat house is packed with people, music blaring and bass thumping. He sees costumes of every kind all around him, people shouting to be heard as they wave too-full drinks in the air, alcohol splashing on the wooden floors of the hallway. Paul leads them through the house to the kitchen, which is stockpiled with every sort of cheap alcohol imaginable. On the counter, he spots boxes of pizza thrown everywhere, contents completely gone. 

Everyone circles the island, grabbing their drink of choice. Carlos grabs a cup, pouring a healthy amount of tequila before adding some Coke. He takes a sip, letting the alcohol and carbonation burn his throat, enjoying the sensation. He immediately feels himself relax, already more comfortable around such a huge crowd of people.

“Oh my god,” he hears from behind him. He turns, mid-sip, to find TK standing in the doorway. 

The sight of his costume short-circuits Carlos’s brain, causing him to spit out his drink, the liquid dribbling down his chin.

TK is basically dressed in only a blue speedo. A white warm up jacket hangs open on his shoulders, revealing the defined, muscular lines of his torso. Around his neck hangs a gold medal and on his feet, white boat shoes.

Carlos literally cannot remember how to swallow. 

“You did not dress up as a footballer,” TK exclaims, moving towards him. The closer he gets, the wider Carlos’s eyes grow, and he wonders vaguely if his brain might explode completely. 

“Oh hey, TK,” Paul says, stepping into Carlos’s line of sight. “Nice costume,” he says, sending a completely obvious smirk Carlos’s way.

“You, too,” TK says, admiring Paul’s superhero ensemble before turning back to Carlos. “But seriously, this is very unexpected,” TK says, gesturing to Carlos’s uniform. There’s a brightness in his eyes and a flush on his cheeks that Carlos wants to stare at for the rest of his life; or at least for the rest of the party, so that he doesn’t openly ogle his roommate the entire evening.

“Wow, is that diving medal real?” Paul asks, filling the silence left by Carlos’s inability to speak. 

“Yeah, I won it in high school,” TK says, lifting it so that Paul can get a closer look.

“You never said you were a diver,” Carlos finally says, his voice uneven as he tries to remember how to breathe properly. When TK turns to him, he almost swallows his tongue again, blood rushing simultaneously to his face and somewhere much lower on his body. 

“I didn’t?” TK says, his eyes flashing as he smirks. “Hmm, must have slipped my mind.”

Carlos can do nothing but shake his head, squeezing his free hand into a fist to avoid doing something reckless, like reach out and touch his barely-dressed crush/best friend/roommate. 

“I think we’re going to go find some people,” Paul says, turning away from them to grab Josie’s hand. 

And then, suddenly it’s just the two of them. 

TK circles around him to grab a cup. “What’re you having?” he asks, giving Carlos a look. 

“Batanga,” he responds, stepping up to TK’s side. He can feel the heat of him there, and he re-focuses on his cup to try to ground himself. “Tequila and coke.”

“Oh, nice,” TK says, eyeing the bottles in front of him. Eventually, he reaches for some rum and coke, filling his cup. “Cheers,” he says, raising his cup to Carlos’s before lifting it to his lips. 

Carlos takes a gulp of his own drink, breathing deeply as he once again feels the burn in his throat. It snaps him back to reality, allowing him to regain a little bit of his composure.

“I can’t believe we both came as ourselves from high school,” TK says, and Carlos turns towards him, their eyes connecting. There’s a softness in TK’s stare, and Carlos wants to drown in it. “That’s some crazy mind-twinning.”

“How long have you been planning this one?” Carlos asks, refusing to allow his gaze to travel lower than TK’s chin. 

“Oh, this was totally last-minute,” TK admits, opening his arms as he looks down at his chest, his voice nonchalant. “I had to meet up with my dad halfway between here and Austin for dinner so that he could bring me my speedo.”

“Aren’t you cold?” Carlos asks, glancing down for the briefest of moments. He gets as far as TK’s nipples before he looks away again, refilling his drink to have something to do.

“I wore my warm-up pants here,” TK shrugs, taking another sip. “I had to stash them though. The speedo kind of makes the costume, you know? Otherwise I’m just a random athlete.”

Carlos nods, taking another sip. He’s starting to feel the tequila now, his heartbeat rising as his senses are simultaneously dulled and heightened. 

“That uniform is really working for you,” TK says out of nowhere, and Carlos turns to find him running his eyes up and down Carlos’s body. There’s a deeper flush on his cheeks and his eyes are slightly dilated. Whether it’s from the alcohol, the heat of the moving bodies around them, or something else, Carlos isn’t sure. “I mean, I don’t even like football, and I’d show up to watch you play.”

Their eyes meet again, a charged energy between them, and Carlos finds himself unable to respond.

This is how it always is with TK. They’re close and casual with one another, and TK will say things to him that he would never expect to hear for someone who’s just a friend. But, TK says them anyway, without hesitation; it’s impossible to read them as anything more serious when he says them so cavalierly. 

But there’s also this spark that exists between them, and Carlos really doesn’t think it’s just happening in his imagination.

Maybe it’s the alcohol speaking, or the uninhibited way that TK is staring at him in his football uniform. Or maybe it’s the fact that Carlos doesn’t know how much more of this situation he can take before he breaks.

Whatever it is, Carlos lets the charged energy between them build, refusing to look away and let it die. He takes a step closer, his eyes remaining locked on TK, watching as the other man also takes a step.

“Wanna dance?” TK asks, his voice soft. Carlos recognizes the invitation for what it is: an extension of the moment, not the end of it.

“Yeah,” he answers simply. 

They down the rest of their drinks, tossing them in the trash as they move towards the crowd dancing in the living room. The furniture has been pushed to the sides or out of the room, leaving plenty of space for people to dance if they want to. TK guides them through the bodies, stopping near the center of the group and turning to face him. Like they were choreographed to do so, they both begin to move at the same time, synching up with the crowd. 

Time slips away as one song bleeds into another, TK and Carlos feeding off of the pulse of the dancers around them as they move to the music. Carlos spots Mateo and Maya in the crowd at one point, the two of them joining him and TK for a few songs before cutting out to get some air. The same thing happens with Paul and Josie, before they too slip away to get another drink.

And through it all, TK and Carlos dance. They keep a bit of space between them, their movements wide and their smiles bright. When songs come up that the crowd knows the words to, they scream along with everyone, the room becoming the equivalent of a club for just a moment. Carlos feels weightless, free, finally able to enjoy himself in the company of one of his favorite people in the entire world.

At some point, the crowd pushes against Carlos’s back, suddenly moving him closer to TK. His fingertips graze TK’s stomach, just north of his belly button, and Carlos hears his friend gasp at the unexpected contact.  
  


“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes, trying to step back again to give TK space. The other man just shakes his head, reaching out to grip his arm, stalling him.

“Don’t be,” TK tells him, his eyes heavy on him. “I didn’t mind it.”

Like flipping a switch, the energy between them roars back to life, pushing ahead full-throttle. TK pulls him close, his hand sliding down to grip Carlos’s waist as they pick up the rhythm of the crowd, their hips moving in tandem. Carlos feels heat all over his body, his heart beating loud enough to hear over the music. With a deep breath, he slowly reaches out to drag his fingertips against TK’s soft, sweaty skin, sliding them underneath his jacket to let his palm rest above TK’s hip.

And suddenly, they aren’t just two people dancing in a crowd, but two people dancing with one another. They communicate with one another - by touch, by sight, by sound. Carlos feels the way TK shivers under his touch, and at the same time, they both tighten their grip on each other, their front sides pressing together. 

Even through his jersey, Carlos feels like he can feel every dip and curve of TK’s body, every shift and extension of muscle. His brain, aided by alcohol and unavoidable lust, allows everything around him to fade until it’s just him and TK, and their unspoken conversation. 

The music suddenly slows down to something far more sensual and, without missing a beat, TK turns to press his back into Carlos’s chest, reaching to wrap his hand around him as their hips press together. There’s no doubt in his mind that TK can feel every inch of him, but the other man seems determined to keep them as close as possible.

Before he can second-guess himself, Carlos leans down to press his face against the curve of TK’s neck, feeling the way he tilts his head to make room for him. Carlos moans wantonly, feeling the stretch of tendons against his lips as he inhales deeply. He’s waited so long for this moment, and he’s determined to take advantage of this opportunity to discover all of the things that make TK click. 

TK lets out a moan of his own, the sound vibrating the column of his neck where Carlos is currently resting. “We should go somewhere else,” TK suggests, his voice breathy as he turns his face towards Carlos.

“Yes,” Carlos sighs, tightening his arms around TK’s stomach for just a moment. At his answer, TK reaches for his hand and steps away, dragging them out of the crowd. 

There’s a voice in the back of Carlos’s head that wonders if they should do this. He knows that this could just be the alcohol talking, that they might regret this moment when it’s over. Maybe, he thinks, he should stop this now, walk away while they still can. They can talk about it when they’re both sober and thinking clearly, when TK is fully clothed and Carlos can return to his normal self.

At the edge of the crowd, TK turns back to look at him. His expression is so open, so full of lust and desire, his eyes are locked right onto Carlos. That one look kills every doubt in his mind. 

They both want this, and they deserve to have it.

TK pushes through the last group of people, his hand still firmly locked with Carlos. He has no idea where TK is planning to take them, but he’s happy to follow him anywhere.

That is, until TK suddenly freezes at the edge of the room, Carlos nearly barreling into him. 

The first thing that Carlos notices is how quickly TK drops his hand, almost as if he’s been burned by his touch. He feels his heart nearly collapse in his chest at the motion, but before he can read too far into it, Calros notices how the rest of TK’s body is practically vibrating in front of him. It’s minor, but it’s there, and it only takes Carlos a moment to realize that something is very wrong. 

He steps to the side, looking over TK’s shoulder to see what has caused such a reaction in him. He finds two men standing in the doorway, one dressed as Iron Man and the other as War Machine. They seem to be holding hands.

He’s just about to ask what’s going on when War Machine speaks up, his voice blank.

“TK.”

Carlos turns to take in his roommate, watching as TK swallows. “Alex,” he says, his voice shaking around the two syllables. 

There’s silence after the brief interaction, and Carlos looks between the two men, wondering what to make of this weird stand-off. He seems to be the only one confused, as Iron Man has slid closer to War Machine - Alex - to grip his arm tightly, the two presenting a seemingly united front.

Carlos refocuses on TK, watching as his eyes slide down to where the two are gripping each other. He’s still vibrating, the jerky motions more obvious now. Carlos steps closer, reaching out to wrap his fingers around TK’s left elbow. His friend turns to look at him, eyes wide. 

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks. He already knows the answer, but feels like he has to start somewhere. TK visibly reacts to the sound of his voice, reaching up to cover Carlos’s fingers with his own, his eyes opening wider in what appears to be terror. 

Five seconds. 

That’s how long it takes for Carlos to put the rest of the puzzle together, to clearly understand what’s going on right now. He glances back to Alex and the other man, his face hard, before stepping right in front of TK to block them from view. 

“What do you need, TK?” he asks, his voice loud and clear over the music playing all around them. TK just shakes his head, his eyes darting all around. “TK, what do you need?” he asks again, reaching out to grip TK’s other arm. TK’s eyes slide back to him, but his stare remains blank and unfocused, his breathing labored as he struggles to orient himself.

Carlos, in complete desperation, decides to just go for it, willing to accept the consequences no matter what.

“Tyler,” he says for the first time since August, cradling TK’s face in his hands. 

The effect is instantaneous. TK let’s out a stuttering gasp, his blue-green eyes finally finding Carlos’s brown ones and locking on tight. Carlos gives him a gentle, apologetic smile. 

“There you are,” he whispers, his voice soothing. “Now, what do you need?”

TK swallows again, his eyes shifting to the side, no doubt towards the other two men. “I need to get out of here,” he finally says.

“Okay,” Carlos says, nodding in agreement. “Do you trust me?”

His roommate’s eyes find him again, softening for the first time in the past five minutes. It’s an expression that Carlos recognizes immediately, and one that sets his heart ablaze. 

“Of course I do,” TK answers him easily, without hesitation.

“Then let’s go.”

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

It takes them 15 minutes to walk back to campus.

They leave the party as quickly as possible, Carlos rushing TK past Alex and the guy he assumes is his boyfriend without even a second thought. TK guides him to his pants, slipping them on, then takes Carlos’s hand again, waiting for him to take the lead. 

The frat house is in a neighborhood adjacent to campus, so the two of them stroll down the sidewalks in silence. TK still seems to be processing recent events and Carlos is determined to respect his need for space. 

Once they’re on campus, they reach a fork in the path - one will take them back to their dorm, and another will take them elsewhere, towards Carlos’s favorite place on campus. He turns to find TK staring at him, waiting for him to decide, and with a nod, Carlos steps down the path away from their dorm, TK following without question. 

It’s another five-minute walk to their destination. The Theatre Center is one of the landmarks of campus; a completely round red-brick building topped by a white octagon tower. A circular moat runs around the entire structure, with four paths dividing it into quadrants. During the day, it looks like a bizarre modernist structure at odds with the classic architecture of the university, but at night, the red brick glows like dying embers in the pathway lights. 

Carlos and TK approach the deserted building, crossing the moat on one of the paths. When they reach the circular walk that runs along the side of the building, Carlos turns to the right, beginning what will become the first of many strolls around the theatre. 

“This is really soothing,” TK says on their third trip around, stopping to lean over the railing and look down into the inky water below. There’s a green hue that reflects off the surface, lighting up the vegetation that borders the other side of the moat. At night, when there’s no one around, it feels like stepping into a strange alternate universe.

“My roommate situation was really bad freshman year, so I used to take a lot of walks around campus,” Carlos admits, joining TK at the railing. “This building was always my favorite. I liked how different it looked from all the rest.”

“Surprised you didn’t escape to the library,” TK teases, and Carlos swears there’s something like affection in his voice.

“Oh, I definitely did,” Carlos says, smiling down at where his hands rest next to each other. “Let’s just say I needed to escape a lot.”

“And what about this year?” TK asks, gripping the railing to rock back and forth on his feet. “Where do you go to escape this year?” 

“I don’t have a need to escape this year,” Carlos says quietly, staring straight ahead. “I have everything that I could ever want in our room.”

TK doesn’t respond, and Carlos’s heart races, wondering if he’s revealed too much. 

“I’m sorry about how I acted back there,” TK finally says weakly. “I don’t know what that was.”

Carlos bites his bottom lip, hesitating. Then, because he just can’t stand the elephant between them, he plows ahead. “That was your ex, right? The one who…?”

“Yeah,” TK whispers, his voice cracking on the word. “The one who cheated on me and then kicked me out of his house. A real stand-up guy, as I’m sure you could tell.”

He tries to cover his heartbreak with humor, but Carlos can hear it in his voice anyway. 

“You know, you never ask about him,” TK continues. “We talk about so many things, but you’ve never once asked about him.”

“It just seemed like you weren’t ready to talk about it,” Carlos shrugs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I figured if you wanted to say something, you’d bring it up.”

It’s quiet again, and when Carlos looks up at him, he finds TK already staring back, his mouth open just slightly as his eyes gleam with tears. Carlos watches as TK shakes his head, pulling back from the railing and continuing their circle around the building, stuffing his hands in his pockets when Carlos falls into step at his side. 

“We started dating freshman year,” TK begins, his voice sounding far away. “We did everything together, had the same friend group. I never really got involved in anything on campus because Alex just wasn’t into it, and I figured I’d much rather spend time with my boyfriend than join a bunch of clubs.”

Carlos remembers how odd it was that TK didn’t seem to have any campus connections at the start of the semester. A lot has changed since then, with TK joining their hall council and a few other volunteer organizations. He knows that TK makes it a habit to check the social calendar on campus, and when he’s not in class or studying at the library, he’s often at some meeting or event. He’s even mentioned applying to join Carlos and Paul at Out Youth in the next few months, after hearing their stories about all of the teens they get to meet.

“Anyway,” TK continues, “things were fine and I was happy. Freshman year was pretty great. Then, I went to New York for most of the summer before sophomore year, and Alex stayed here in Texas. We struggled with the long-distance thing, but I think I just ignored it when we came back, because I was so happy to be around him again.

“Looking back, I think sophomore year was really bad for us. He was pulling away a lot more, and I was trying to cling tighter. Obviously, now I know why, but I didn’t really know what to think then, and I’m sure I wasn’t easy to handle. So, when it came time for housing assignments, I asked him if he wanted to move in together and for some reason, he said yes.

“He visited Austin once over the summer, for about four days. The rest of the time, it was hard to get ahold of him, almost like he was avoiding me. And then, well, you know what happened.”

Carlos feels an intense urge to run all the way back to the party and have a word with Alex, to tell him what a piece of garbage he thinks he is. The only thing that keeps him where he is, is the look on TK’s face - his friend just looks absolutely crushed, and Carlos has no idea what he can do to help.

“I thought I was getting better, you know?” TK says, his voice warbling as fresh tears pour down his cheeks. “It’s been over two months, I feel like I’m finally figuring out my life, I was even starting to… I don’t know... feel things again. Things that I never expected to feel so soon. And then suddenly I see him and it’s like I’m right back on that phone call where he tells me he doesn’t love me and wants to live with someone else. It’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, TK,” Carlos says, reaching out to take his arm. TK stops, his lip curling as he fights against the emotions wanting to break free. His eyes are glassy, tears streaming down down his cheeks. Carlos reaches up to wipe them away with his free hand. “It’s just a part of the process. Seeing an ex for the first time after a bad breakup is really fucking awful, but this doesn’t mean that you’re not still recovering. It’s not a full-on set-back, just a bump in the road.”

TK blinks up at him, his chest heaving. Then, before Carlos can makes sense of what’s going on, TK collapses against him, his arms coming up to wrap around Carlos’s torso as he releases a heartbroken cry.

The second he realizes what’s happening, Carlos pulls TK into him, wrapping his up in his arms as tight as he possibly can. 

They stand there, outside the theatre center, holding on tightly to one another. Carlos runs his fingers through TK’s hair and down his back, letting him release everything from not only this evening, but from the past two months as well. He knows that this is something that’s been hanging over TK for a while now and, though he’s sad that it took seeing Alex again to make TK confront it, he’s happy that it’s finally happening. 

When TK finally runs out of tears, he stays in Carlos’s arms, folding his face into the curve of his neck. Carlos can feel the wetness from his tears there, but he doesn’t mind. Not as long as he can be of some support to this man who has truly become his best friend. 

After what may be minutes or hours, TK pulls away just enough to look up at him, his blue-green eyes sad but beautiful in the glow of the nearby lights. Carlos smiles softly down at him, continuing to rub soothing circles on his back. 

“You called me ‘Tyler,’” TK says suddenly, raising an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”

Carlos feels a blush rise to his cheeks. He breaks eye contact with TK, looking out over the moat as he laughs sheepishly. “Um, it was the name on my housing re-assignment email. Tyler Strand,” he explains. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees TK’s mouth drop open. “You mean to tell me that you’ve known my name for months, and you haven’t said anything?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice. 

“Your dad told me you hated it when people said your real name, and I didn’t want to start us off on the wrong foot,” Carlos says defensively. “I mean, you know, other than hitting you in the face with a door.”

“My dad knew that you knew?” TK asks, stepping back as he raises his hands in true dramatic-TK fashion. 

“I swear I’ll never use it again,” Carlos promises. “Just please don’t hate me.”

TK shakes his head, looking out over the water again. “Wow, I can’t believe this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I really like the name Tyler,” Carlos tries, cringing when TK shoots a glare his way. 

TK lets out a dramatic sigh, a seemingly reluctant smile taking over his face. “I actually like it when you say it,” he mutters, his face pointed straight down at the sidewalk. 

Carlos can’t help the smile that lights up his own face. “So, does that mean you don’t want me to move out?” he asks, only half-joking.

TK rolls his eyes. “No, I don’t want you to move out, Carlos.” He leans back over the railing again, waiting for Carlos to join him at his side. “Living with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m not gonna trade that for anything.”

Their eyes meet and, for the first time, Carlos sees TK for all that he is - open and unguarded and full of a quiet strength. It takes his breath away, the knowledge that what they have is special to both of them. That it’s something neither of them want to lose.

“Me neither,” Carlos agrees, reaching over to wrap his arm around TK’s shoulders to pull him into his side. 

What they have is enough for now.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How cool is the [Texas State Theatre Center](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/111675265740748272/) though? I think it has a sort of odd, romantic quality about it, but maybe that's just me...
> 
> You can [follow me on tumblr](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/), where I like to tease future chapters and expected release dates!


	4. November | Friendsgathering

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

Carlos has always loved to cook.

He was thirteen when his dad died, and one of the ways that he and his mom found their way through their grief was in the kitchen. They would spend evenings and weekends there, standing side-by-side at the counter, tossing ingredients into bowls and filling their house with the smells of family, love, and joy. His mother taught him how to make pretty much every single delicious food on the planet, passing down family recipes for him to make his own. While his older sisters also learned to cook from his mother, none of them enjoyed it quite as much as Carlos.

It was in that kitchen where they all learned to laugh again, flour in their hair and tears in their eyes as they joyously remembered how much his dad loved to sneak tastes of dinner or dessert before it was ready, his mom playfully whacking him with a wooden spoon whenever she caught him in the act. Sometimes, she would chase him around the room, mixing weapon raised high above her head, and his dad would lift him up to use as a shield against her wrath. Carlos remembers laughing hysterically as he flew through the air, tears streaming down his face, gasping for breath. 

Those are happy memories that fill him with comfort and love, and every time he gets a chance to cook, he finds a sense of calm and peace that he’s never received from anything else.

While Carlos loves the time that he spends at Texas State every year, living in a dorm with only a microwave within reach certainly has its disadvantages. Kneading dough with his hands, or tossing spices into a pot filled with meat and veggies until he finds the perfect ratio of ingredients, is his greatest form of stress relief. During his freshman year, he took advantage of the easy drive to Austin and visited home on the weekends to take over his mom’s kitchen. When stress hit him in the middle of the week, he found comfort in cooking videos on YouTube; he’d turn them on while he studied, listening as the host described how to mix ingredients for all of his favorite recipes. It wasn’t the same as standing at his mother’s side, measuring out the flour and sugar, but it was close enough.

Early on in their friendship, while studying together at the library, Grace had asked him about the videos. He shared with her and Paul his love for cooking, how the consistency and accountability of a recipe made him feel grounded, how being in a kitchen and handling ingredients reminded him that there were things within his control - that certain processes would always lead to the same result. He remembers feeling embarrassed to share such a personal part of himself with them so early on in their friendship, at least until they told him about their own love of cooking. He likes to think that that conversation brought them closer together, cementing their already fast-forming friendship. After that, he would watch his cooking videos without headphones, all three of them finding comfort in watching someone else masterfully make all sorts of interesting meals.

It was actually Grace who first suggested the idea for a Friendsgathering dinner, especially after Carlos told her about all of his favorite recipes and how much he loved to cook for his family. They decided to host a somewhat anti-Thanksgiving meal before their week-long break, forgoing the traditional turkey and sides, and sharing their own favorite family dishes instead. Grace volunteered Judd’s campus apartment kitchen for their inaugural event; a junior at the time and completely willing to give Grace everything that she could possibly want, the upperclassman had not even attempted to object. The next year they added Marjan and Mateo to the mix, allowing Carlos the chance to share his favorite family recipes with the new family of his own making.

“Head out of the clouds, Carlos, or you’re liable to burn something.”

He jumps, turning to find Grace standing next to him at the stove, slowly stirring her famous chili. She’s giving him a penetrative look, her eyebrow raised. He ducks his head, a flush taking over his face as he watches the tomatillos and peppers in front of him begin to boil.

“You know I would never burn anything in your kitchen, Gracie,” he assures her, leaning over to press a playful kiss to her temple. She grins, rolling her eyes as she adds spices to her pot. 

Carlos removes his peppers from the burner, carrying them over to the sink to drain them.

“What’s on your mind this time?” Grace asks, lowering the heat to and stepping over to the far counter, where the blender is. She plugs it in, getting it ready for him to use.

“Just thinking about our first Friendsgathering,” he answers, a fond smile taking over his face. He sets his veggies aside to cool, glancing over at the soaking corn husks to make sure that they’re still fully submerged. “Can you believe there were only four of us that year? Now we’re at, what? Nine?”

“Yeah, it just keeps getting bigger and bigger,” she agrees. “What did we even eat that year? I don’t recall.”

“I know you did your world-famous chili,” he says, reaching over to grab a cheese cube from the tray on the table before joining Grace. He begins to measure out the ingredients for his green chile sauce, Grace jumping in to assist him. “I think Paul did those really good turkey burgers?”

“Oh yeah, that sounds right,” she says. “I think he and Judd are both happy to have an actual grill this year.”

“Thank you, again, for hosting. I know it’s a lot of people, but it’s so nice to have an off-campus option.”

“Marjan and I love having you all over, don’t even worry about it,” Grace shushes him, patting his arm. A timer goes off on his phone, and she moves over to the stove, checking on the chicken while he begins adding ingredients to the blender. “ You know, I honestly expected you to take over my kitchen a lot more this semester. Thought I might even have to chase you out a time or two.”

Carlos pauses, thinking about the last time he came over to make one of his family’s recipes. On one hand, he would never want to invite himself over to someone else’s house, even if Grace and Marjan are practically his sisters and they’ve granted him an open invitation. But, he also knows that it’s been a minute since he even strapped on an apron and cooked for himself. He hadn’t even realized how much he truly missed it.

“It’s been a very different semester than I was expecting,” Carlos explains, his face apologetic as Grace removes the chicken from the pot to cool a bit. “Between working at the library and classes, I’ve been so busy.”

“You’ve got quite a lot keeping your brain occupied,” she says, and Carlos turns just in time to catch the look that she gives him. 

“I’m sorry, if I’ve been absent or distant,” he says, a new worry growing in the pit of his stomach. “I just, you know, kind of bury myself when I’m stressed.”

“Carlos, love, I’ve known you for years now, you don’t have to tell me twice,” she jokes, giving him a soft smile before her expression grows serious. “And you haven’t been absent, so you can just stop that guilty train of thought right now.” He nods, letting her know that he heard her, even if her words don’t delete the worries. “Tell me, have you been stressed lately?”

He sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “I mean, not constantly, it comes and goes.” Grace comes up to his side, reaching out to rub his back. He leans into her space, feeling the comfort that he always gets from her. “And, I mean, signing up for spring classes kind of triggered the ever-present fear that I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, you know?” He laughs weakly, trying to pass it off as a joke, but he can tell by the look on her face that he fails.

“Ah, yes,” Grace says, pursing her lips as she nods. “Judd actually did that halfway through junior year, too. Maybe it’s, like, a rite of passage or something?”

“Could be,” he says. “What about you? Have you had your mid-college crisis, too?”

“Psh, of course not, I’ve got everything together,” she exaggerates, shooting him a wink. “No, but really, of course I have! I mean, I’m getting a communications degree, Carlos. Do you know how little direction that actually gives me?”

He laughs sympathetically, switching the blender on and then moving away to continue their conversation, letting the green chile sauce form on its own.

He grabs his wine glass off of the table, draining it before refilling both his and Grace’s. “You know you’re going to be great at whatever you do, Gracie,” Carlos says, handing her her glass. He grabs another cheese cube, popping it into his mouth.

“I know, I just,” Grace states, swirling her glass and rolling her eyes. “Maybe I should’ve become a teacher like my mom. That feels so obvious to me now.”

“You would be a great teacher,” Carlos tells her, moving over to the stove to grab the bowl of chicken breasts. He carries it over to the blender, beginning to shred the cooked meat while keeping an eye on the sauce. “And you should totally become one, if that’s what really speaks to you.”

“I’m not sure what really speaks to me,” Grace sighs, taking a gulp of wine. “You know, Judd and I talk a lot about his work.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems really happy at the academy, and hearing him talk that way about something he loves makes me want the same thing, too, you know?”

“Yeah,” Carlos says, reaching to switch off the blender. “Tell you what, why don’t we try to figure out our lives together? After finals, you and me, we can hash everything out, try to find our next steps. Might help to have another brain in the mix.”

“Really?” Grace says, moving back to his side, a brightness in her eyes, either from the idea of the red wine. “Have I told you how much I adore you, Carlos Reyes?”

“You have, many times,” he laughs, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “I love you, too, Gracie.”

They hear the apartment door open, Judd calling out that he’s back from the store. Grace rolls her eyes, stepping away to help, mumbling something about her “loud cowboy.” Carlos refocuses on the chicken, making sure that he’s removed all the skin and bones before tearing the meat with his fingers. 

“Reyes!” Judd shouts when he enters the room, setting down his bags. Carlos barely has time to towel off his hands before he’s pulled into a big hug, a laugh rolling through him. “I missed you, brother.”

“I missed you, too, Judd,” he says, his voice thick. While the firefighter-in-training tries to make it down to San Marcos as often as he can, it’s still been a couple of months since Carlos has seen him, a far cry from when they were both students at Texas State. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Well, I couldn’t just miss Friendsgathering, could I?” Judd says, pulling away to help Grace put away the drinks that he brought. They sent Judd to the liquor store to restock, while Marjan, Paul, and Josie went out for a last-minute grocery run. “Who would make the drunken ribs if I wasn’t here?”

“No one would even dare to try, Judd,” Carlos assures him, shooting Grace a wink before turning back to the chicken.

As Carlos works, they fill each other about the past few months of their lives. He hears a lot of stories from Grace - including when he and TK come over to talk her down about the dangers of the job - but it’s fun to hear some of the stories straight from Judd himself. Grace was right; he clearly loves his job and cannot wait to complete his training, his passion and excitement evident in every word he speaks. 

Carlos is stirring the shredded chicken and sauce on the stovetop when there’s a knock on the door. Grace excuses herself to get it, leaving him and Judd alone for a moment. There’s music playing softly in the background as Judd finishes his final story.

“So, I’m on this call, just to observe, you know,” he’s saying, gesturing with a beer in his hand. “And this captain from the 126 suddenly decides he’s going to go into this unstable house by himself, to find these two kids. The rest of his team was just left standing outside, waiting for him to make it out. Craziest shit I’ve ever seen, let me tell ya. But the guy’s originally from New York or something, so I guess that makes sense.”

Something clicks in the back of Carlos’s mind, but before he can figure out what it is, he hears a new voice enter the conversation.

“Ah, so you’ve already met my dad,” TK says, stepping into the room. “I guess Austin really is a small town. You know, the man’s been down here over three years and he still acts like it’s his first day on the job,” he continues, a smile on his face as he takes in Judd. He shifts the box in his arms, holding out a hand to shake. “TK Strand. I’m guessing you’re Judd?”

“Oh, the infamous TK?” Judd says, his eyebrows rising up on his forehead. For some reason, he turns to give Carlos a look, a slight smile on his face. Carlos quickly looks away, his face heating up as he shoots a glare towards Grace. She just smiles innocently back at him, raising her wine glass to her lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Judd continues, turning back to TK.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” TK says, his smile widening as he turns to find Carlos at the stove. “Hey there, stranger,” he teases, stepping towards him. “I know you said you had to get here early, but I’m not sure I was expecting to wake up to find your bed empty.”

“Sorry,” Carlos apologizes, unable to stop the smile that takes over his face as he stares into TK’s shining green eyes. “The corn husks have to soak for a few hours and the tamales have to steam for two, so it kind of becomes an all-day thing.”

“Oh, wow,” TK says, stepping close to look at the green chile chicken that Carlos is currently stirring. “That smells so good.” He looks at the box in his hands, a frown appearing on his face. “I’m not sure that my store-bought New York-style cheesecake can really compare to all of that work.”

“Nonsense,” Grace says, jumping in to take the box from his hands, putting it in the fridge. “We’re just glad you’re here.”

“I kind of grew up on take-out, so me picking something up from the store is definitely the safer option for all of us,” TK jokes, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “You look completely at home here,” he adds, gesturing to Carlos and the apron he’s wearing.

“Oh, Reyes is a master in the kitchen,” Judd pipes in, coming up behind them. “You telling me he hasn’t cooked for you yet?” When TK shakes his head, Judd lets out a short laugh. “Oh boy, just you wait. One bite and you’ll fall completely in love.”

It feels like the air is suddenly sucked out of the room, Carlos’s heart pounding in his ears. He can feel a blush on his cheeks, ears, and neck, his eyes widening at Judd’s claim. He turns back to the chicken in front of him, unable to look anyone in the eye.

There’s a pause, and then TK speaks.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Judd,” he says softly, and Carlos can’t stop himself from glancing his way, surprised to find TK’s eyes on him, his green irises bright in the light from the range hood above them. 

“Come on, Judson,” Grace says, shattering the moment. Carlos turns to find her giving him a knowing look. “Let’s go make sure the grill is all set up for your ribs. I think these two can finish the tamales on their own. Carlos, keep an eye on my chili, would you?”

He merely nods, struggling to find his voice. Grace takes Judd by the arm, dragging him from the room and out to the back patio.

TK watches them go, a small smile on his face. He turns back to Carlos. “They seem perfect for each other,” he says, the fondness clear in his voice.

“They really are,” Carlos agrees, his voice uneven. He coughs lightly, reaching to turn off the burner. 

“So, ‘Master of the Kitchen,’ huh?” TK jokes, coming to stand next to Carlos, close enough that he can feel his body heat. “I can barely pass for an assistant, but I’m happy to help. What do you need?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never made masa before,” Carlos says, less of a question and more of an intuition. TK doesn’t even bother answering him, choosing instead to just give him a look. “Well, it’s never too late to learn.”

Carlos steps aways from the stove and over to the sink to wash his hands. Then, he clears space on the counter for a large bowl and all of the ingredients they’ll need to get started.

“So, what is this exactly?” TK asks, running his own hands under the water as he nods to Carlos’s workstation.

“Masa is basically a corn dough. We’re gonna roll it and the green chile chicken inside a corn husk and then steam them.”

“Oh, wow. That sounds incredible.”

“Have you never had tamales before?” Carlos asks, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

TK grimaces. “Guilty.”

“Okay, when you meet my mother, please pretend that you were much younger when you had your first tamale. The truth might honestly kill her,” he jokes, leaning in to elbow TK’s side.

“I can definitely do that,” TK assures him, the laughter clear in his voice. “I wouldn’t want to do anything to endanger your mom.”

They get to work on the masa, TK asking him all about when he first learned to cook. Carlos tells him, going on and on about his mom and sisters and the dozens of family recipes that they worked on together in the kitchen back home. He tells TK about their big neighborhood dinners, how other families on his street would come over for potlucks, bringing mountains of food and stomachs to house it all. 

“God, that sounds so nice,” TK says, stirring the dough as Carlos continues to add Maseca and chicken broth to the bowl. “We never really had anything like that in New York.”

“You should come to our next one, we do them all the time in the summer,” Carlos says, already picturing TK there among his family and childhood friends. Another image pops into his mind, one that lights his heart on fire, and before he can stop himself, he’s speaking again.

“Actually, I’m sure my mom would love to have you over for dinner one night during winter break,” he says, his ears no-doubt turning red as he thinks of TK in his home, seated at the table with his mom and sisters. He really likes that thought.

TK hums, turning to look at him. “That sounds really nice,” he says, but Carlos notices the way that his eyes dim just a little. “But, I’m actually spending my break in New York with my mom. I fly out two days after finals, and get back right before classes start again.”

“Oh,” Carlos says, the news hitting him like a truck. He knew they would see each other less over the three-week break, but he had at least thought that they would both be in the same city; that maybe they could grab coffee together or something. 

Instead, he’s facing three whole weeks without his roommate. It leaves him feeling way more hollow than he would’ve anticipated.

“Yeah,” TK says, clearly not noticing Carlos’s inner spiral. “I didn’t tell you before because we hadn’t booked the flights yet, but since I only spent a few weeks in New York over the summer, my mom insisted on getting me for break, too.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Carlos says, masking his feelings. “I mean, nothing beats New Year’s in New York, right?”

“Oh, definitely,” TK admits, though Carlos swears that he can hear a shred of doubt in his voice. “It should be great.”

A silence falls between them now, broken only by the music playing in the background. Carlos continues to add Maseca and broth to the bowl until it reaches the right consistency.

“So now we wrap them?” TK asks when Carlos gives him the okay to stop stirring. 

“Yeah,” Carlos says, moving around the kitchen to line up everything that they need. He quickly stirs Grace’s chili before adding water to the steamer pot on the stove. He returns to TK’s side, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Wrapping all of the pieces together is his favorite part of making tamales, and he feels just like a kid again, excited to help his mom with dinner. 

“It’s pretty easy,” he continues, grabbing a wet corn husk and laying it flat on his palm. “You want the smooth side facing up, and then you just spoon some masa on top and even it out.” He demonstrates, noticing how TK is paying close attention. “Add some chicken, and roll it up. One side, then the next, and fold the bottom.” When he’s finished, he holds it up for TK to see. “Ta da!” 

TK laughs, his eyes practically twinkling as he nods, rubbing his own hands together in anticipation now. “Okay, I think I can manage that easily enough.”

He watches as TK follows his directions carefully, spreading the masa and adding the chicken. It’s not until he gets to the folding that he starts to struggle, some of the masa escaping through the sides. By the time he folds the bottom, the tamale is a mess in his hand, completely unable to hold its shape. 

“I’m pretty sure I did something wrong here,” he says morosely, and Carlos can’t help the snort that escapes from him. TK turns to face him, his expression of shock and hurt so profound, that the laughter bubbles up without his permission. “I can’t believe you’re laughing at a time like this, Carlos Reyes,” TK exclaims, his voice near hysterical as a smile lights up his entire face. “I’m completely hopeless in the kitchen, and you’re standing there making fun of me.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Carlos assures him, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “I would never, ever make fun of you.”

“Oh yeah? Then what’s so funny?” TK asks, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“I’m just remembering something that my mom once said, which now suddenly makes so much sense,” Carlos explains. At TK questioning look, Carlos finally settles, letting out a sigh. He moves closer, lifting TK’s failed tamale from the counter and unwrapping it. “She said that if you treat your tamale with the love and respect it deserves,” he says, fixing the masa and chicken before gently refolding it, “it will show you love and respect in return.”

He lays the tamale down on the counter, watching as it keeps its shape this time. He hears a stutter next to him and looks up to find TK staring at him, his mouth open slightly. Carlos swears that he can hear the clock ticking in the other room, each second hammering on his heart. Without a word, TK leans forward, his eyes glancing away as he grabs another corn husk. “Should we do one together?” he asks softly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Carlos reaches out, his hand cupping TK’s, each of them supporting the husk. With their free hands, they each reach for the remaining ingredients. TK spreads the masa evenly and when he finishes, Carlos is ready with the chicken. When it’s filled, they each grip one side, folding it over. Their fingers brush, the expected spark shooting up Carlos’s arm and into his chest. It happens so often now, whenever he’s close to TK, that he’s come to expect it, count on it even. 

They step back, staring down at their finished tamale, identical to the other two that Carlos has already completed.

“We did it,” TK says, a sort of surprised awe clear in his voice. 

“No, you did it,” Carlos amends, nudging him. “You’re a natural.”

TK snorts, shaking his head. “And you’re a bad liar, but I’m accepting the false praise anyway,” he says, practically preening.

They work side-by-side, folding the tamales until they’re all out of masa and chicken. Carlos can’t help but to sing along when his favorite songs come up on the playlist, shaking his hips and crooning. TK enjoys the show, joining in when he knows the lyrics. It takes them longer to finish all the tamales, but Carlos doesn’t mind at all.

When they’re done, he moves over to the stove and shows TK how to prop them up inside the steamer pot so that they’ll cook evenly. They’re just putting corn husks over the top when TK speaks again. 

“You know, I can’t remember ever doing something like this with Alex.”

Before Halloween, that statement would’ve rocked Carlos to his core. It’s hard to remember the time before then, when TK would dodge conversations about his ex-boyfriend, a shroud of mystery hanging over him. While it may have only been a few weeks ago, in many ways, TK seems like a completely different person now. 

The day after Halloween had been rough, with TK basically laying in bed all day, refusing to speak to anyone or do anything. Carlos had left him alone, knowing that he was going through a lot from the night before, and not wanting to add any stress to the pile. He had been prepared to repeat the process for at least a few days, if not weeks afterwards.

However, when classes started the very next day, TK was out of bed and moving as if nothing had happened. Carlos thought he noticed a kind of lightness about his roommate, but decided that was probably just his mind seeing what it wanted to see. He continued to avoid the topic of Halloween, just in case it triggered anything for TK.

Which is why he was thoroughly shocked when a few nights later, as they were studying in their room, TK made a casual mention of his past relationship out of nowhere.

“Does it annoy you when I tap my pencil?” he had asked, pulling Carlos from his reading. 

Carlos had frowned at him, pulling his glasses off. “I’ll be totally honest, I hadn’t even noticed it,” he had said, wondering if he should apologize for not being more observant.

TK had just nodded. “Alex used to complain about it. He once said I did it because I was begging for attention.” Carlos had remained quiet, having no idea how to respond to that. “God, he really was a dick,” TK had said, shaking his head before going back to his biology homework and effectively ending the conversation.

Ever since then, TK has dropped Alex’s name in multiple conversations, usually accompanied by a tone of mild anger, frustration, or even indifference. It’s why his statement now feels, in some way, very normal.

Carlos has been meaning to mention it for a couple of weeks now, but he doesn’t want to make a big deal of it either. As he places the lid on the steamer pot, ready to leave the tamales alone for a couple of hours, he decides to just say it, knowing that if TK doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t.

“You mention him a lot more now,” he hedges, watching TK for some sign of a reaction.

His roommate just pops a cheese cube in his mouth, nodding as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

TK takes a sip. “For months I avoided saying his name, like it was some kind of dirty word or something. It would make me cry or want to scream, so I guess in a way it felt like a curse word. And I hated that he had that kind of power over me. But, you know, every time I think of him now, I just feel… relieved?” 

Carlos bites at his bottom lip, knowing TK doesn’t need his input on this. 

“It’s like, seeing him at Halloween caused everything to shift, you know? Like, seeing him standing there with my replacement, the two of them looking so cozy together, it hurt. But then I started thinking about every moment of our relationship where I would freeze like I did when I saw them, moments where I would doubt myself or my choices, where I would take his feelings into consideration before my own. And I realized that he never did that for me, not even after he broke my heart. He just stood there with his boyfriend and stared at me, like I was the one who had done something wrong.

“And now it’s kind of all I see when I think of him,” TK continues, scuffing his feet gently on the floor as he wanders around the room, looking at the decor. “And it doesn’t make me sad anymore. I don’t even know that it really makes me angry anymore. It just makes me want to move on, to stop letting him have so much power over me.”

“So you say his name now?” Carlos asks, finally understanding.

“So I say his name now,” TK repeats, staring at Carlos straight on. “Like it’s just another word.”

“I’m glad,” Carlos tells him sincerely, “that it’s just another word.”

“Me too,” TK says, stepping close again. Carlos watches as he lifts the lid off of Grace’s chili, mindlessly giving it a stir. “You know what else makes me glad?”

“What?” Carlos asks, his voice soft.

“Being here with you,” TK answers, his voice equally as soft. He looks up, his eyes wide and open and honest. Carlos feels his heart drop into his stomach. “You, and Grace and Paul and Marjan and Mateo. I’m just, so fucking glad to have you all. 

“I had no idea what to expect when I moved in with you, but this certainly wasn’t it. That I would get to be here, making tamales and feeling like I’m part of the family-”

“You are, TK,” Carlos interrupts. “You’re a part of this family.”

“I never expected that, and I really can’t thank you enough for it,” TK continues, his eyes shining. “I know this isn’t really a traditional Thanksgiving thing, but I just wanted you to know that I’m really thankful for you, Carlos. Like, more than I’ll probably ever be able to tell you.”

Carlos hesitates only a moment before he pulls TK into his arms, pressing their bodies together in a hug. He feels TK’s arms come up around his neck, holding him tight. 

“I’m really thankful for you, too, Ty,” he whispers in his ear, ducking to bury his face in TK’s neck.

They stay there in Grace and Marjan’s kitchen, holding each other as they sway to the soft music, until they hear the front door open, signaling the return of Marjan, Paul, and Josie from the store. 

They pull apart, stepping away from one another just as Paul enters the room, his arms full of bags. Carlos knows that his face is probably bright red, but no one says a word about it as the party truly begins.

He meets TK’s eyes from across the room, a certainty taking hold of his heart as their gazes lock.

This may be their first Friendsgathering together, but it definitely won’t be their last.

Not if Carlos has anything to say about it.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just did not want to be written, and this is very different than what was originally plotted, but I think it works better. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> There may be a tiny little Christmas gift coming your way soon, if all of the stars are in alignment this week. So, keep an eye out!
> 
> Your comments and kudos mean so much, and help to encourage me when the words get stuck, so thank you for the support!
> 
> [tumblr](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


	5. December | Under the Mistletoe

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

“Aha!” Lupe shouts, slamming her palm down on the stack of cards in the middle of the table, a Jack clearly visible between her open fingers. “Wow, you two are really bad at this. Where are your reflexes?”

Carlos groans, rolling his eyes. He can’t stop the small smile that appears on his face, though. To his right, Paul throws his cards down on the table, crossing his arms over his chest as he shakes his head.

“I don’t get it,” he says, tipping back in his chair. “How have you won seven games in a row?”

“I mean, it can’t have anything to do with Carlos glancing towards the far corner of the room every three seconds and basically ignoring the cards in front of him,” Lupe sarcastically replies, her eyes twinkling. She turns to Paul. “I have no idea why you suck so much.”

“Hey!”

“I just call it like I see it, Strickland.”

“Aren’t you, like, sixteen? What happened to respecting your elders?” Paul argues, giving Carlos an indignant look.

Carlos smiles weakly, his brain still stuck on Lupe’s claim as he feels heat crawl up his face and the back of his neck. His gaze shifts momentarily towards the far corner of the room, where TK sits with a boy named Levi, deep in conversation. His roommate’s gesturing wildly, TK’s face open and expressive as he speaks, and Carlos wonders how many more times he can fall in love with the man before he crashes and burns completely. 

“Since when does my age have anything to do with me kicking your ass at Slapjack?” Lupe fires back. 

Carlos turns back in time to see Paul level her with a look, causing Lupe to roll her eyes. Her gaze lands on him, her eyebrow arched. “So, Reyes, should we talk about what keeps drawing your attention over to that corner?” she asks, sitting up straighter and adopting a mature tone that oddly reminds him of his high school guidance counselor. 

“There’s nothing drawing my attention,” he quickly responds, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, his hands folded in front of him. 

Paul snorts off to his right, and Carlos glances over, his jaw tight as he glares at him. 

“I’m just saying, I’ve been on your side of the table, Carlos,” Lupe says, maintaining her lofty, mature air. It takes him a moment, but he finally realizes that she’s pretending to be him from a few months ago, when he was encouraging her to speak to Kai. Though annoyed, he finds himself impressed by her spunk; she reminds him of his older sisters when they were teenagers. 

“Don’t you have a significant other that you could be bothering?” he asks, avoiding the conversation that she’s attempting to begin.

“Yes, I do, that’s the point!” she exclaims, her voice rising slightly as she throws her hands in the air. Carlos remains quiet, his expression staying neutral. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Paul looking back and forth between them, a small smile on his lips. “Fine,” Lupe finally says, her chair scraping against the floor as she stands from the table. “Since my expertise is clearly not welcome here, I’m gonna go see if Kai wants to makeout under the mistletoe. Enjoy your card games, singles.”

Carlos watches her go, a spark of pride lighting up his chest as she joins her partner at the food table. He watches as Kai wraps their arms around her waist, the two of them leaning in close. They’ve been dating for almost three months now, and they both seem really happy. Carlos still remembers how desperately he wanted to find someone to love when he was in high school, and he’s glad that Lupe and Kai have each other. Whether they’re meant to be together forever is completely irrelevant; what matters is that they’re who the other needs now, and Carlos is thankful that he gets to witness their happiness. 

Across the room, Lupe leans close to whisper something in Kai’s ear, their face lighting up as they nod. Carlos watches as she grabs their hand, no doubt pulling them off towards the mistletoe hanging in a moderately private location further down the hall.

He turns away, his eyes roaming the room to take in all of the holiday decor. He, Paul, and TK had all been part of the decorating team, coming early the Sunday after Thanksgiving to get everything ready before drop-in hours. Garland hangs all around the room, a tall tree stands in the corner, images of the Out Youth community scattered along the branches inside clear, plastic bulbs. From his position at the table, he can clearly see the spot where he hung his picture, TK’s right next to it, placed there by the man himself.

Carlos can’t help the way his eyes sneak back over to the corner where his roommate sits, still talking to Levi, who seems to be leading the conversation at the moment. TK lounges casually on the couch, his left leg folded underneath him as he faces the teen, his arm draped over the back of the couch as he leans towards him, listening intently. Carlos can see the slight furrow of his brow, the thin line of his lips, the twinkle of his green eyes.

Before he can stop himself, he lets out an audible sigh.

“Dude,” Paul says, causing Carlos to jump. He turns to look at his best friend, a heat once again crawling up the back of his neck as Paul levels him with a frustrated glare. “I say this with all the love in the world, but you have got to figure your shit out. This pining is literally killing me.”

Carlos’s heart hammers in the back of his throat, and he thinks he can feel sweat on his brow. 

“Paul,” he starts weakly, his voice uneven. He twists his hands together, pulling at his fingers anxiously. Then, with another sigh, he lowers his gaze to the table, feeling defeated. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

There’s silence between them for a moment, then Paul scoots his chair closer, reaching out to grasp Carlos’s arm. He gives it a gentle squeeze, his eyes softening as he leans forward.

“Carlos, come on,” Paul says. “Be real with me. What’s stopping you from telling him how you feel?”

“At first, it was just that it was all so new,” Carlos starts, shifting to rub his face. “The housing change was so sudden, he was fresh off a breakup. It seemed selfish to put my feelings on him then, and to be honest, we didn’t really know each other. I didn’t know how I really felt.”

Paul nods, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. Carlos takes a deep breath before continuing.

“And then it seemed like Halloween was going to be it, you know?” he says, his mind flashing back to TK in his little speedo, his body pressed against Carlos on the dance floor in a way that left no doubt in his mind about what was going to follow. “We’d formed this friendship, gotten to know each other, and there was definitely a spark. It seemed like we were both finally on the same page, like we both wanted the same thing at the same time.”

He’s never told Paul how close he and TK were to recalibrating their relationship that night, but he can tell by the look on his best friend’s face that it’s not necessarily a surprise. 

“And then the ex showed up?” Paul confirms, his eyes shifting towards TK as he places his elbows on the table.

“Yeah,” Carlos sighs, following his gaze. TK seems to have taken over the conversation again, his hands back in action as he speaks. “It tore his heart open, seeing him again.”

“Carlos, man, I get that,” Paul says. “I do. But that was over a month ago, and TK seems fine now.” Carlos turns back him when he feels Paul grip his shoulder. “Actually, he seems better than fine. He seems really happy.”

Paul levels him with a look, speaking plainly to make sure Carlos gets it. “He seems ready to fall in love again, if he hasn’t already.”

Carlos groans, dropping his head into his hands and trying to ignore the way his heart skips at his best friend’s input. 

“It just doesn’t feel like the right time, Paul,” he whines, his voice quiet as he speaks to the table. “It’s the last week of classes, we’re all stressed about finals. Besides,” he says, raising his head, “he’ll be in New York for a month. He’s not even going to be thinking about Texas.”

“If that were even partially true, I would eat my own damn foot,” Paul scoffs, rolling his eyes. He grabs the deck of cards on the table, shuffling them in his hands. “Look, man, I love you, so I’m going to be real with you. If you’re gonna wait for the timing to be right, for all the cards to land exactly how you want them to, you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life.

“Do you know how close I came to losing Josie?” Paul asks, seemingly changing the conversation. Carlos raises his eyebrows, having no idea where Paul is going with this. “We were doing this casual thing for so long that I think we both just got comfortable with it. And then, suddenly, it wasn’t comfortable anymore. So, we had to make a choice.”

“Do you think you made the right one?” Carlos asks, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, I do,” Paul says, a smile pulling at his lips. “I had to stop being so scared of all of the ‘what ifs’ and just let myself be in the moment. And I realized that what we had made me happy, that I really cared about her. After that, it was pretty easy.”

“Why’d you let Lupe give you crap for being single then?” Carlos asks, his brows furrowing as he gestures towards Lupe’s empty chair. 

“Reyes, the girl is sixteen, she lives to give adults crap. If it wasn’t that, it would’ve been something else. I’ve learned to pick my battles,” Paul huffs, rolling his eyes again. Carlos thinks he might have a headache by the end of the day. “Now, the better question is, what have  _ you _ learned?” he hedges, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Carlos looks back towards TK for what feels like the millionth time tonight. He and Levi have been joined by Paula, Out Youth’s program coordinator. The three of them are laughing about something that the older woman has said, TK’s face flushed as his eyes shine brightly under the overhead lighting. 

He’s practically glowing.

Carlos feels his heart stop beating for a moment. 

“I love him,” he finally says, admitting it out loud for the first time. 

“I’m not the one you should be saying that to, Reyes,” Paul says, his exasperation clear in his tone. “It’s not a fucking mystery to me.”

Carlos keeps his eyes on TK, his mind spinning with so many thoughts and ideas, already mentally planning the where and the when and the how.

He’s in love with TK Strand, and maybe it’s finally time for his roommate to know it.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

Stonewall Warehouse is the only gay bar in San Marcos, and Carlos kind of loves it. He and Paul discovered it when they attended an event for Bobcat PRIDE their freshman year, and they had so much fun that it became their regular go-to place when they wanted to get off campus.

On any given night, there’s live music and drag performances, and Carlos loves to guide everyone out to the dance floor, hips moving as he screams along to his favorite pop songs. Saturday nights are absolutely packed with TSU students, and some of Carlos’s favorite college memories are when he drunkenly throws himself into the crowd, bodies pressing all around him as he lets all of his stress and worries melt away.

It’s no surprise that the Warehouse is where they decide to celebrate the end of a long, difficult semester. They’re all there: Carlos, Paul, Grace, Marjan, Mateo, Josie, Maya, and of course, TK. Each of them have been trapped in a study coma for the past four days; Carlos even reserved a room for them at the library for the entire week, so that they wouldn’t have to worry about trying to find a quiet place to write their essays and read over their pages and pages of highlighted notes. Lines at the Alkek Starbucks have been out the door all week long, and each of them have taken turns grabbing drinks for the group just so that they aren’t all losing precious study time. 

But finals are over now, and Carlos knows that they’re all incredibly relieved. Just this morning, TK fell asleep while reviewing his vocab for physics, and when Carlos finished editing his essay for Juvenile Justice and tapped his shoulder to wake him up, his roommate jerked up with unfocused, bleary eyes, an index card stuck to his face. They could all do with some rest, but first, they’re planning to dance until they drop.

Carlos falls into the large booth next to Paul, his chest heaving from the past twenty minutes that he’s spent out on the dance floor. He wipes sweat from his forehead as he grabs the pitcher of water in front of him, pouring some into the empty glass that he left behind when he and Grace got up to dance. She sits across from him now, eyes shining as she smiles widely, sipping from her own glass. 

“Where’d Mateo and Maya go?” she asks, her eyes glancing around the now semi-empty booth. Carlos notices that Josie and TK are also gone. 

“They went to snag a pool table,” Paul answers, pointing down towards the far end of the bar, where Carlos knows there are a couple of pool tables and a giant claw machine. “Actually, now that you two are back, I can go show them how the game is really played.” He gestures for Carlos to let him out of the booth, and then pats him on the shoulder. “You’re on table watch.”

Carlos laughs, letting Paul pass him before taking his seat again. He folds his body against the faux leather cushion, letting his limbs go lax for a moment, before letting out a sigh. Around him, the bass of the music pounds in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins matching the tempo.

He feels so  _ alive _ .

“You look really happy,” he hears Grace call from across the table, and he opens his eyes to look over at her. She’s wearing an expression that he can only describe as soft, and a gentle warmth fills his entire chest. With a huff, he pulls himself into a sitting position, sliding around the table to press against her side. He pulls an arm around her, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, Gracie,” he says, giving her a wide smile.

“Now, now, Carlos, you know Judd can be a jealous man,” she admonishes, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”

“For you, I would fight off a hundred Judson Ryders,” Carlos jokes, desperately clutching at her hand.

“Well, now, that would be something to see,” she laughs, reaching out to cup his face as she shakes her head. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a voice says nearby, and they both look up to find TK standing at the end of the table. 

“Oh, you know how soft Carlos gets when he’s had a little too much to drink,” Grace explains, nudging him in the side when he lets out an offended whine. “He was just offering me his hand in marriage.”

“That sounds about right,” TK laughs, taking a seat across from them. Carlos notices how his lively green eyes land on him and never leave, and he can feel a familiar fire roar to life in his chest. 

When they returned from Austin on Sunday, they had immediately dived into a study session for their Monday finals, so Carlos hasn’t had a chance to talk to TK since he made the long overdue decision to tell him how he feels. Part of him considered trying to pull his roommate aside tonight, but that was before the group did a few tequila shots when they first arrived. Now, he’s not sure if he’s in the right state of mind to bare his soul; he wasn’t lying when he told Paul that the timing never seemed right to confess all of his feelings to TK. 

So, here he sits, once again, in front of the man he’s in love with, and he still has no idea how to tell him the truth.

“I think I’m going to go see how the game’s going,” Grace says, extracting herself from underneath Carlos’s arm. She pats his leg as she slides from the booth, waving to the two of them before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

“You looked like you were having fun out there,” TK says from across the table, gesturing towards the dance floor. Carlos loves that their table is far enough away from the throng of dancers that they can still hear each other without yelling.

“You were watching?” he asks, his eyebrows raised as TK nods, ducking to look down at the table. He’s holding a drink in his hand, fiddling with the thin plastic straw. “I wish you would’ve joined us,” Carlos dares to add, hoping that his meaning is clear in his tone.

TK looks up, his eyes steady as they meet Carlos’s. “The night’s still young,” he says, shrugging.

Carlos sometimes thinks back to before he met TK four months ago; if his memory is correct, his heart behaved fairly normally then, spending it’s day pumping blood to his organs and keeping him alive.

Ever since he whacked TK with that door, though, he swears it’s never been normal again. 

Now, it takes hardly anything for his heart to somersault in his chest, climbing to the back of his throat or dropping to his stomach without a moment’s notice. A look, a touch, a suggestive phrase; when coming from TK, they ignite something inside of him that throws him completely off-balance and grounds him, all at once.

He wants to chase that feeling for the rest of his life.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” he asks suddenly, a plan forming in his mind.

“My dad’s picking me up at noon,” TK says, taking a drink. “He booked a cabin at Canyon Lake, wants to get as much time with me as possible before I leave on Sunday.”

The reminder of TK’s New York trip is nearly enough to make Carlos ignore his thought process, but he shakes himself, not letting his brain convince his heart not to make the leap; it’s time, and he’s tired of second-guessing himself.

“Would you want to get lunch with me tomorrow?” he asks, his fingers twisting together under the table, trying not to vibrate out of his body. “Before you go?”

TK looks over at him, the twinkling holiday lights above them casting his face in a multi-colored glow. Carlos stares back, watching as TK’s eyes scan his entire face, possibly searching for something. Then, his green eyes soften, a small smile pulling at his lips. “I would love to, Carlos.”

There’s a heaviness in the way that TK says his name, like maybe saying it grounds him in some way, and Carlos feels as if they’re both lining themselves up to take a leap. He just wishes he knew where they were going to land.

“Should we get another drink?” TK asks, draining the rest of his glass and tilting his head towards the bar.

“What about the table?” Carlos wonders, looking around for one of their friends.

“No one left anything behind,” TK says, scanning the seats around them. “Besides, I think they’ll be at the pool table for awhile, and you owe me a dance. We can find another table later.”

Carlos nods, sliding out of the booth. He’s slightly unsteady - from the tequila shots, the dancing, or the change in elevation, he’s not sure. TK joins him at his side, wrapping an arm around his waist as he presses close, and Carlos doesn’t hesitate before wrapping an arm around his shoulder, holding them together.

They pick the upper bar, so that they don’t have to fight through the crowd to reach the main one. Their bodies stay connected as they order, throwing back a shot each before sipping on their drinks - TK’s having his signature rum and coke, while Carlos sticks to tequila and coke. They slide away from the bar to make room for others, standing at the edge of the room instead.

They’re talking and laughing about all the drunk strangers around them when Carlos’s eyes meet a vaguely familiar pair across the room, belonging to someone that he hasn’t really thought about for months. “Fuck,” he says, looking away when Lucas raises his hand and starts to make his way towards him.

“What?” TK says, turning to face at him, taking in the tense set of Carlos’s shoulders.

“I just, um,” Carlos stutters, his voice breaking as he tries to figure out what to do. He feels terrible, but he doesn’t think he can face this right now. “Someone’s coming over.”

TK looks around, scanning the crowd. He must spot Lucas, somehow, because he turns back to Carlos. “Who is he?”

“Um,” Carlos hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Someone I hooked up with a few months ago.”

It may be his imagination, but he swears he sees TK freeze, his jaw tightening as his eyes widen. His roommate turns back to the crowd, Lucas’s short brown hair visible as he struggles to get through the crowd but still beelining towards them. When TK looks at Carlos again, there’s a brightness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “You never told me you hooked up with someone,” he says quietly.

“I think you were distracted by other guys at the time, so we never got to really talk about it,” Carlos says, his tone nothing but honest. It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned TK’s Grindr phase.

“Right,” TK responds, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He shifts, stepping away from Carlos. “Do you, um, want me to give you two some alone time?” he asks, avoiding Carlos’s gaze.

“No!” Carlos practically shouts, his heart racing. “No, TK. I cannot tell you how much I really don’t want that.”

“Okay,” TK nods, and Carlos swears he hears relief in his voice. He at least thinks some of the tension disappears from TK’s shoulders, his body relaxing as he looks around them. Carlos watches him, wanting nothing more than to pull him close and tell him how much he really doesn’t want TK to ever walk away. He could do it, just come right out and say it, but he doesn’t want it to be mistaken for a drunken confession. TK deserves better than that.

“Okay,” TK says again, a determined look on his face as he stares past Carlos’s shoulder. He lifts his drink to his lips, pouring the rest of it down his throat and swallowing, a flush rising on his cheeks. “I have an idea.”

Before Carlos can ask what he’s talking about, TK reaches out and places a hand on his chest, gently pushing him a few steps back. Then, he steps close. “Wrap your arms around me.”

“What?” Carlos asks, his brain struggling to figure out what’s going on.

“Just, give me a hug,” TK says, his own arms coming up to wrap around Carlos’s waist. He feels himself freeze at TK’s touch, his brain short-circuiting. It’s certainly not the first time they’ve held one another, but it still sends a thrill through him whenever he finds himself in his best friend’s arms. “C’mon, Carlos, it only works if you act like you like touching me.”

That insane sentence, more than anything, brings Carlos back to the moment. There should never be any doubt in anyone’s mind of just how much he likes touching TK, he thinks, especially TK himself, and he brings his arms up to wrap around TK’s shoulders, pressing their bodies so close that it would be impossible to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. 

They stay there for a moment, the crowd moving in slow-motion around them as TK drags his hands up and down Carlos’s back, fireworks exploding from each of the touchpoints. He shifts, pressing his face into his roommate’s shirt, inhaling deeply as he drowns in his familiar, wonderful scent. It’s one of the most erotic moments of his life, and he truly never wants it to end.

Then, suddenly, TK pulls away slightly to look at him, his eyebrows raised. “Did we get rid of him?”

“What?” Carlos asks, still dazed.

“Did we run the guy off?” TK asks, turning to scan the crowd. “I don’t see him anymore, do you?”

Carlos doesn’t know how to respond. He feels like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over his head, his heart transforming in his chest as it turns to glass, ready to break. He mindlessly follows TK’s gaze, the roaring in his ears drowning out the music. “Yeah, I guess we lost him,” he mumbles, his eyes closing to stave off the tears that he can feel prickling at the corners. 

“Mistletoe,” TK says, and Carlos opens his eyes to see TK pointing to something above them. He looks up, seeing the holiday decoration hanging there between them. “I figured it would be pretty convincing.”

Carlos slides his eyes back down to meet TK’s, watching his best friend shrug uncertainly. He has to admit that it was a good plan, one that clearly worked. He wonders why that doesn’t stop the hollow feeling from spreading throughout his entire chest.

They stand there, holding each other’s gaze, neither of them speaking. Carlos has no idea what he’s supposed to do now; he’s standing under the mistletoe with the man that he loves more than he’s ever loved anyone before, and they aren’t even able to take advantage of the moment. Not the way he wishes they could. 

He doesn’t understand why it’s so fucking hard to be in love with your best friend.

TK moves first, stepping closer and bringing his hand up to grip Carlos’s neck. It feels intimate, important, but Carlos doesn’t know what to make of anything anymore. His brain feels like it’s broken, along with his shattered heart, and both of them refuse to speculate any further on the meanings of TK’s actions. 

“I won!” a loud voice suddenly shouts right next to them, and Carlos turns to see Mateo rushing towards them, arms raised in victory. “I finally beat Paul at pool!” 

The rest of the group trails behind him, smiling and laughing at Mateo’s intense excitement. There’s a call for victory shots, and before he can figure out what’s going on, he’s being pulled back towards the bar. When he turns, he finds TK already pulled into a conversation with Marjan, their moment under the mistletoe over and seemingly forgotten, just like that. 

He leans over the bar, rubbing his forehead. He’s so fucking exhausted.

“You okay?” Paul asks, gripping his shoulder as he comes to stand next to him.

Carlos stares straight ahead, his eyes passing over the numerous bottles of alcohol lined up behind the bar. With a sigh, he turns to look at his best friend.

“I need a fucking drink.”

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

When Carlos wakes up, he immediately makes three observations.

The first is that his head, without question, surely weighs about 600 pounds. It feels like someone has stuffed about a billion cotton balls through his ears, wedging them tightly inside. He knows, from past experiences, that the minute he tries to move, he’s going to have to empty his stomach. He wonders how close he came to drinking his weight in tequila last night, and then immediately stops trying to figure it out when the thought makes his head hurt even more.

The second observation that he makes is that he’s naked.

It’s strange because while he typically has no qualms about sleeping naked, he also lives in a dorm with a roommate, so he never sleeps naked. It’s just respectful. When he’s at TSU, the most that he will do is strip down to his boxer briefs; in fact, he and TK both often sleep in just their underwear. They’re both comfortable with it, and Carlos would never want to push past those limits. He had hoped that, even in such a drunken state, he would continue to respect TK’s boundaries, and his brain is already mentally trying to figure out how to apologize to his roommate.

However, those two observations truly pale in comparison to his third discovery. 

There’s a weight along the left side of his body. At first, he thinks it’s just an extension of the heavy weight that he feels in his head, just all over his body instead. But then, there’s a faint banging in the distance, and the weight shifts on its own, allowing Carlos to finally figure out what it is.

There’s someone in bed with him.

He doesn’t have the energy that he needs to open his eyes and take a look, so instead he tries to focus on the position of the body. He’s laying on his back, and the other person seems to be pressed against his side. They’re both under his thin sheets, and there’s a leg thrown over Carlos’s own. His left arm seems to be wrapped around the other person’s shoulders, his fingers clenched around what feels like a hip. There’s a hand resting on his chest, and a face pressed into his neck. He can feel soft, short hair tickling his chin. 

There’s another banging sound in the distance, and the body against him shifts even closer, their hips pressing firmly together now. Carlos realizes that he is definitely in bed with another man, and that man is also definitely naked.

He wonders why he’s not more on edge. Though it’s never happened before, he always imagined that he would be pretty freaked out to wake up and find himself in bed with a stranger. So many scenarios are running through his mind, some of them truly haunting, but for some reason none of them matter when the man laying next to him presses even closer, shifting his head to press his lips to Carlos’s neck.

The distant banging stops, returning the room to silence. Carlos focuses his senses on the unknown man next to him; he can feel the way he breathes, hear the soft sound of his snores as breath leaves his body. His sense of smell seems heightened, but he can’t pick up on any foreign scents. In fact, his dorm room smells the way that it always does, just with the addition of a strong odor of both tequila and sex. It confirms Carlos’s suspicions about what he and this man did last night, but even that thought doesn’t terrify him the way he would expect it to.

He’s just about to open his eyes to answer his final question when the silence is broken once again, this time by the sound of a phone ringing. It seems to be coming from the floor, but even the ringtone is familiar, one that he’s pretty sure he’s heard hundreds of times, even though it’s not his own.

The man against him shifts, his face nuzzling deeper into Carlos’s neck. “Five more minutes,” he groans, and the voice is so incredibly familiar that Carlos’s eyes shoot open without permission, the shock coursing through his entire body. 

There’s only a little bit of sunlight pressing through the dark blue curtains, but it’s enough for Carlos to take in the soft, pale skin that is a sharp contrast to his own. The phone continues to ring as he pulls his head far enough away to stare down at the face of his drunken hookup.

TK.

A fear grips him as he looks around the room, spotting his roommate’s empty bed in the other corner. He lifts his head a bit to see their clothes thrown in every direction. 

The phone continues to ring in the pocket of what Carlos now recognizes to be TK’s tight jeans from last night. He brings his right arm up to gently shake the man awake.

“TK,” he says, his voice cracking on the two syllables. “TK, get up. Someone’s trying to call you.”

TK moans again, the sound shooting straight through Carlos’s entire body. The phone stops ringing, but it’s immediately followed by the banging on the door. It’s not the door to their room, but it’s not that far away either. He listens, hearing a voice.

“TK!” 

He realizes that it’s TK’s dad knocking on the door of their suite, and when the phone starts ringing again, he finally puts two and two together. With a strangled groan, he shakes TK a little harder.

“TK, your dad’s banging on the door right now,” he says, his voice slightly panicked. 

That does it. TK’s eyes shoot open, his body thrown into action. He nearly falls off the small twin bed, but Carlos reaches for him before he can tumble to the floor, his hand gripping tightly to TK’s bicep. His roommate climbs out of bed, completely naked, and bends to grab his pants, his bare ass on full display. Carlos feels his dick twitch under the sheet without his permission, quickly looking away before it gets even worse.

“Fuck,” TK cries, staring down at his phone. “It’s 12:30, he’s called like 10 times!” He struggles to step into his jeans before pulling them up to his hips.

“Dad, calm down, I’m coming!” he yells, running his hands through his hair as he turns back to face the bed. Carlos watches him freeze, his gaze dragging up his bare chest until their eyes meet, TK’s pupils blown as he licks his lips. “Carlos…”

Carlos just shakes his head, waving away the tone in TK’s voice. “You’ll want a shirt, too,” he says quickly, his eyes zeroing in on the numerous bruises dotting TK’s chest. 

TK looks down, taking them in. “Thanks,” he says, bending to grab a shirt and pulling it over his head. It’s Carlos’s, and therefore a little big on him, but he doesn’t seem to care. “Listen, about last night-”

“Go let your dad know you’re alive, Ty,” Carlos interrupts, his heart struggling to stay together. This is not at all how he wanted this to go. 

TK opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, his dad knocks on the hall door again, and with a frustrated sigh, he turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

The minute that he’s alone, Carlos’s stomach turns. He jumps up from the bed, running to the bathroom. He throws himself on the floor, emptying his stomach into the toilet.

When he’s finished, he leans back against the wall, ignoring the fact that he’s naked on the bathroom floor. His mind races, trying to figure out how they could’ve let this happen.

Everything’s still a blur in his mind, but there’s one thing he does know for certain.

He’s totally fucked.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to yell in the comments, I love when people do that! 🤗
> 
> [tumblr](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


	6. January | New Year, New Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sharing your comments on chapter 5! That's the first cliffhanger that I've ever written, and it was so exciting to receive so much positive feedback.
> 
> I'm sorry that I've kept you waiting for this chapter for so long; 2021 has already proven to be a bit of a wild year. I hope you enjoy this one, and that it's worth the wait!

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

Carlos hasn’t spoken to TK in nineteen days. 

It’s not for lack of trying, at least on TK’s part. There’s an unopened voicemail on his phone, left there five minutes after midnight on New Year’s, but Carlos can’t bring himself to click on it. Instead, the red notification bubble haunts him every time he opens his phone, along with the dreams that keep him awake at night.

There are a few texts as well, in their roommate group chat with Paul and Mateo, sent a few days into break. They’re innocuous messages, merely mentioning the crazy antics of TK’s fellow passengers as he sat waiting at Austin-Bergstrom for his flight to depart. Carlos had texted back a simple “ _Have fun in New York!_ ” before closing the app, his stomach rolling just from typing those five words.

The message thread between the two of them sits untouched, metaphorically gathering dust, and Carlos doesn’t know what to do about it.

After he’d emptied his stomach that morning, his mind blank and his heart shattered, he’d collapsed onto the floor for only a moment before pulling himself into the shower. Under the scalding hot water, he tried to scrub away the fog of alcohol that lay over the events of the night before, but nothing had worked. By the time he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, he still had no idea how he and TK had ended up in bed together. 

He hadn’t been able to talk to the other man about it either, not with TK’s dad there, rushing him to pack so that they could make it to their cabin in time for check-in. His roommate had barely paid him any attention, quickly grabbing his things as his dad hovered over him before leaving with a wave and “Have a good break!” The door slamming closed behind him had felt like a nail in the coffin, and Carlos’s stomach had twisted, forcing him to empty its contents in the toilet for the second time that morning.

There’s a sudden knock on his bedroom door, pulling him out of his seemingly-endless spiral of negativity. He sits up, removing one of his Airpods, the music cutting off as he turns towards the door. “Come in,” he calls, his voice thin from exhaustion. 

His mother steps in from the hallway, closing the door behind her. “Feeling any better, mijo?” she asks, moving towards him to get a closer look at his face. She presses her palms against his jaw, her thumbs dragging gently under his eyes. “Oh, cariño…”

Carlos sighs, knowing how he must look. He hasn’t had a full night of rest in over two weeks. He spends hours lying awake in bed, guilt and embarrassment pressing against his chest and tumbling through his stomach. When he does sleep, he’s assaulted with visuals of hands dragging against his skin, lips pressed against his neck, hips rutting against his own. He always jerks awake with a gasp, his chest heaving and his sheets twisted around him. He does know if what he’s seeing is an actual memory or just a dream, and the not-knowing is literally tearing him apart. 

He doesn’t know how to explain any of that to his mother without scarring her for life. He doesn’t know how to explain why there is this guilt that weighs him down - this fear that, in his drunken state, he forced himself on the one person he loves more than anyone else. That maybe he begged or cried and, out of some sense of pity, TK gave him what he wanted. 

He spends his days thinking about how TK had avoided him after, how he rushed out the door without so much as a hug or a backward glance. Like he couldn’t stand to even look at him. 

Like he regretted all of… whatever it is that they did.

He thinks about how TK hasn’t messaged him once. How the only time he has reached out directly during the break is to no-doubt drunkenly call him on New Year’s, probably to tell him how much he hates his guts and wishes they never met.

There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that they’ve ruined their friendship forever - that _he’s_ ruined their friendship forever. It was the one thing he always feared would happen, the entire reason why he has spent the past five months hiding his feelings. They had a solid relationship, and he never wanted to push for more - not when there was a risk that it would change everything. 

The hardest part is the not knowing. Carlos has always enjoyed a casual night out, drinking and having fun. He likes how relaxed he feels when he’s had a few drinks, how the tension leaves his shoulders and he can just… let go, and have a good time. He always leans a little bit into his drinks, enjoying the freedom that they give him, the fire that they light inside of him. But, he hardly ever gets so drunk that he can’t remember anything that happened the night before.

Sure, there are those flashes, glimpses into the evening, things that he sees in his sleep or when he lets his mind wander, but without someone to confirm the images, he can’t tell if they’re real or not. It’s embarrassing, the fact that he let himself get so shitfaced that he can’t remember the night that he spent with the man that he loves with his entire heart.

It hurts, that he basically missed it. Their first kiss, their first time. The first time they fell asleep together in each other’s arms. He’s sure it’s all there, but it doesn’t look how he wants it to, or it’s just out of his reach, and that’s what destroys him the most. 

He’ll never get another chance at those moments with TK, ever again.

“Mijo,” his mother calls, shaking him out of his thoughts. He looks up at her, biting his bottom lip. 

“Sorry, mami,” he says, reaching up to wrap his fingers around her wrists. He gives her a small smile. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Sí, I think that’s pretty obvious to everyone who has seen you these past few weeks,” his mom chides gently, her eyebrows furrowing just beneath her hairline. “We’re all worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay, mami,” Carlos assures her, shifting to press a kiss to her palm. “TK and I got into a little fight before he went to New York,” he lies, more guilt churning in his stomach, “but I’m sure when we’re back at school next week, it’ll all be fine.” 

“Oh, Carlitos,” his mom sighs, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be able to work it out. You two were made to be in each other’s lives. The way you talk about him? I just know it.” She pulls back, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping away. “All you can do is be honest with each other, and everything else will fall into place, yeah?”

“Sí, mami.”

“Dinner soon, mijo,” she tells him, preparing to leave. “Come down and be with everyone, I don’t like you spending so much time up here alone.”

He nods, falling back onto the bed when she closes the door behind her. He reaches up to scrub at his tired eyes, his mind racing. He turns his head to stare at the calendar placed above his desk, mentally counting down the days until he and TK will be together again.

That’s the first step. He needs to be in the same room with him, needs to make it clear how sorry he is for all of the damage that he’s done. A phone call or a text message could never be enough. It feels too easy, too distant. 

He needs to see TK, for them to be face-to-face. Then, he can follow his mother’s guidance. Then, when they’re back in the place that they know best, Carlos can apologize. He can be honest, and tell TK exactly how he feels.

He just has to wait a few more days.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

Except, TK isn’t there when Carlos and Paul arrive on campus the Sunday before classes start.

And he’s still not back on Monday, missing the first day of term.

There’s no sign of him at all on Tuesday either.

Carlos is freaking out, but he at least knows that TK’s alive. His roommate sent a message to their group chat late Sunday night, telling them that he was trapped in New York for a few extra days due to a blizzard grounding all flights in and out of the city.

The unexpected extension of their time apart eats away at Carlos every minute of every day that they continue to be separated. Over break, he had spent so much time preparing for him and TK to see one another the day that he returned to TSU, mentally mapping both his apology and possible confession, that the extra days of waiting now feel like some sort of cosmic atonement. He’s spent so long avoiding the conversation - his fear and pride and embarrassment getting the better of his rationality - that the universe seems to have decided not to let him hold the reins of this disaster he’s created any longer.

When classes start, he throws himself headfirst into them, finding as many ways as possible to avoid his room and TK’s empty bed taunting him in the corner. He hides out in the library, getting a start on his reading list for the semester. He works a shift at the checkout desk on Tuesday night, his gaze repeatedly wandering over to the empty nearby table where TK usually camps out during his shifts. Every time he stares at his roommate’s empty chair, a weight presses against his chest, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs as his heart threatens to cave in.

On Wednesday, three days into term, Carlos wakes up from his restless sleep with a new kind of determination, knowing that he’s been an idiot for far too long. His relationship with TK is way too precious for him to let something like a giant, drunken mistake ruin it forever. He knows that he’s been a colossal asshole these past few weeks, that he may have to grovel and beg for his best friend to forgive him. He doesn’t care. He’s willing to do whatever it takes. 

He makes it through all of his classes before cutting over to the rec center, pushing his body past its limits on the exercise machines for what feels like hours, his mind racing with everything that he’s been feeling for the past few weeks and months, working out how to finally voice them to the one man who needs to hear them.

By the time he makes it back to his room, the sun has set over campus. He’s soaked with sweat from the most intense workout he’s ever done in his life, but as he strips down to step into the shower, the only thing that he can focus on is the ache of his muscles and the racing beat of his heart. 

He lets the hot water wash away all of the hesitation and heartbreak, all of the doubt and terror. A fire roars to life in their place, sparked by courage and hope. When he steps out of the shower, he’s practically vibrating, finally ready to grab his phone and call the one man whose voice he longs to hear the most. 

Carlos pulls open the door to the bathroom, the steam from his shower pouring out into his and TK’s room as he reaches for a towel. He quickly runs it through his short curls as he takes a step towards his nightstand where he left his phone. 

He doesn’t make it there. 

Three steps away from the bathroom door, Carlos stops in his tracks, letting out a sharp gasp as he finally lets the towel drop from in front of his face and takes in the room around him, now occupied by another person.

TK stands in the center of their shared space, his back to Carlos as he faces the bed where everything between them came together only to fall apart. Carlos notices the tense set of his shoulders, the way his hands are balled into fists at his side. The man jerks slightly at Carlos’s gasp, and he only just manages to get the towel secured around his waist before TK turns towards him.

Their eyes lock instantly, and Carlos feels all of the breath leave his lungs as he takes in those green irises that have haunted all of his days and nights since he first saw them, almost five months ago. His heart seizes painfully in his chest when he notices the dark circles under those normally bright eyes, surrounded by paler-than-usual skin, pulled tight against TK’s sharp bone structure.

The man looks completely exhausted.

“Well, it’s good to know you’re alive, I guess,” TK finally speaks, his voice worn and weary, as if saying those words costs every bit of energy that he has left in him.

Carlos just gapes at him, the sudden shock of TK being right here in front of him driving every train of thought in his mind to a grinding halt. 

“Wow, okay,” TK says, shaking his head. “Twenty-five days of silence and you still have nothing to say to me?” There’s anger in his voice, but it’s not strong enough to mask the hurt and frustration that settles heavily around them.

“Listen, Ty...” Carlos begins, the apology ready on his lips.

“I’m sorry, okay?” TK cuts in, his voice cracking on the words. “Carlos, I’m so sorry. I never meant for anything to happen, but I let it and I hurt you and I’ve never, ever want to hurt you and I am so, so sorry.”

Carlos finds himself frozen by TK’s claim, his heart sinking to rest somewhere at the bottom of his stomach. Of all the thoughts that have rolled around in his mind for the past three-and-a-half weeks, he never expected an apology from the man that he hurt. 

His natural instinct is to reach out to TK, to wrap his arms around him and hold him close and tell him that everything’s going to be okay. In fact, he’s already taking a step closer, arms raised, by the time he realizes what he’s doing. His hands ball into fists as they fall back to his sides, his jaw clenched as he denies himself the one action that feels right. But, he can’t, not yet. 

He owes TK an apology first. 

“TK, maybe you should sit down,” he says instead, his voice careful as he moves over to his desk to grab a handful of tissues. “Here,” he says, passing them over.

TK reaches for them slowly, his red-rimmed eyes never rising to meet Carlos’s own. Then, almost as if he’s not even thinking about it, he stumbles back a few steps until his legs meet Carlos’s bed, dropping down to sit on top of his blue comforter. 

Carlos stares down at him, hating the distance and space between them. After so much time apart, he wants nothing more than to be as close as possible to this man.

“Do you mind if I...?” he asks, gesturing to the floor in front of TK. When his roommate doesn’t reply, Carlos steps closer, carefully lowering himself down to his knees so that they’re at the same eye level. It’s not an easy task with only a towel wrapped around his waist, but he’s too impatient to worry about that now. He needs to do this, to fix what he’s broken. 

He needs them to be okay again.

“TK, I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” he says, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him. TK looks up at his words, clearly preparing to argue, but Carlos pushes on. “I was the one who got so drunk that I can’t even remember what happened that night, and I forced myself on you, and you have to know that I would never want to place you in that position, but I did and I’m so sorry I made you uncomfortable. I totally understand if you never want to see me again, we can talk to housing--”

“Whoa, Carlos! Hey!” TK shouts, his eyes wide as he reaches forward to cup Carlos’s face in his hands, his touch trapping the rest of his words somewhere in the back of Carlos’s throat. TK’s skin is warm against his, a flush crawling over his cheeks and the back of his neck as his roommate locks eyes with him, green meeting brown. “Breathe, Carlos,” TK orders in a firm tone.

Carlos pushes out a breath through his lips, his head spinning as he tries to make sense of the current intimacy between them. He doesn’t understand how they’ve gotten to this point, when he was so sure that TK must hate him. It doesn’t make sense that TK is taking care of him, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb as he forces Carlos to regulate his breathing. 

“Why the hell would you think you forced me into something?” TK asks after a few moments of silence. “You and I both know that you would never, ever do that.”

Carlos is struck by how firmly TK speaks the words, almost with an anger that he can’t contain. “I just assumed… I mean, I don’t know how else we got here,” he tries to explain, his eyes shifting to the head of his bed, “if I didn’t beg or cry or make you feel like you had to-”

“Oh my god,” TK interrupts, Carlos’s eyes darting back to him. He’s surprised to find TK wearing a dumbstruck expression, his mouth slightly open in shock. “You… How?” TK asks, shaking his head. “How are you the smartest person I’ve ever met and also a complete idiot?”

Carlos furrows his brow, his heart thumping in his chest as he tries to figure out what he’s missed. This conversation is turning out to be nothing like he thought it would be. 

“Wait,” TK continues, ignoring Carlos’s silence. His face has morphed, now taking on an expression that can only be described as puzzled awareness. His roommate leans in, scanning Carlos’s face as if he’s solving a riddle. “You never listened to my voicemail, did you?”

A blush blooms across his cheeks as he looks away, somehow not at all surprised that TK was able to guess such a random bit of information. He pulls at his fingers, twisting them in his lap as he figures out how to explain.

“I was scared,” he whispers, and he’s shocked to feel the prick of tears in his eyes, accompanied by something heavy crawling up the back of his throat. “I couldn’t handle hearing you say that you hated me, or that you never wanted to see me again.”

Carlos jumps when his roommate lets out a strangled groan of frustration. “I swear I could just…” TK says, bringing his hands close to either side of Carlos’s face, almost as if he wants to grab him and shake him. Carlos opens his mouth, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but before he can say anything, TK is turning away from him, reaching for Carlos’s phone on his nightstand. He holds it out to him. “Listen to it for me?” he asks, his eyes wide and sincere. “Please.”

Carlos has never been able to deny him anything.

He takes his phone, fingers shaking slightly as he finally clicks on the green icon with the red notification bubble. With a deep breath and a quick glance towards TK, he presses play.

“ _Hi, Carlos_ ,” TK’s voice pours from the phone, the sound of music and cheering all around him. “ _Happy New Year_.”

TK’s tone is far from happy, his words significantly less slurred than Carlos was expecting for a New Year’s message. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his heart pressed up somewhere in his throat as the message continues.

“ _I know things are really weird between us right now,_ ” TK continues through the phone, while the man in front of him stays completely still and silent, “ _but it seemed even weirder for you to not be the first person I talked to this year. You’re always the first person that I want to talk to, about anything._

“ _I’ll admit, when I originally imagined this phone call, I thought you’d actually be on the other end of it. Maybe we’d even make a joke about New Year’s kisses, and I’d say ‘the person I really want to kiss isn’t here with me right now’ or something flirty like that, and you’d blush. I wouldn’t be able to see it, but I’d know it was there._ ” TK lets out a sigh into the phone’s speaker, the noise around him becoming a distant sound as he clearly steps away from his gathering. “ _I guess it makes sense that that’s not how this is going, but I hope you won’t blame me for trying anyway._ ”

Carlos is surprised that he can still hear the message, a roaring sound having filled his entire head as his eyes lock onto TK, who openly stares back at him, nothing hidden.

“ _I’m really sorry, Carlos. I know you’re hurt and that I had a hand in that. I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you. I just…_ ” The TK on the phone trails off, and Carlos, because he just can’t help himself, reaches forward to place a hand on TK’s leg, squeezing gently in support. TK smiles softly, placing his hand on top. 

“ _Have you ever wanted something so much that you don’t know how to say no when you finally get it, even if it’s not exactly the thing you were expecting?_ ” the TK on the phone asks, finally having found his words. “ _That’s what happened when you kissed me in that bar, right in the middle of the dance floor. It was everything and yet nothing like what I imagined it would be for us, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking more. I let myself drown in you, Carlos, the way I’ve always wanted._ ”

TK shifts, turning his hand to link their fingers together. He pulls them up to his mouth, pressing his lips gently to the back of Carlos’s hand, their eye contact never wavering. Carlos’s chest rises before a breath stutters out of him, the phone shaking in his hand as he pieces together this long awaited mystery that is TK Strand.

“ _I’m sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted, Carlos, and I’m sorry if I--_ ”

The message cuts out as Carlos locks his phone, dropping it to the floor next to him. He doesn’t need to hear the rest of the message, not when he has the man sitting right here in front of him. 

“You never said anything,” he whispers, trying not to disturb the energy weaving between them right now. It feels tenuous, but powerful.

“I wanted to, so many times,” TK admits, bringing his other hand up to encase Carlos’s hand in-between his own. “It seemed like I freaked you out every time I tried, so I backed off.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlos apologizes, shaking his head. “I’ve been so trapped in my mind, so scared that if something like this happened, it might ruin everything else. I’ve felt frozen, with nowhere to go, and I ruined it all anyway.”

“I don’t think you did.”

Carlos freezes, trapped in TK’s soft gaze. They stare at one another, each hardly daring to move.

“I didn’t drunkenly beg you to have sex with me?” Carlos has to know, he has to be sure.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that,” TK says, his tone teasing. “You definitely begged for me to do things to you.” Carlos blushes, feeling like he’s on fire. “But, I was just as drunk, and I begged for things, too. Carlos, I wanted you just as much that night as you wanted me, I swear.”

Carlos nods sharply once, finally allowing all the tension and fear that has been clouding his mind to fall away. He looks around, watching as the atmosphere of the world seems to change with the confirmation of what really happened that night. 

The room around them looks the same - the same standard, four-wall dorm that they’ve made their own sanctuary.

Except, to Carlos, it now looks entirely different.

It’s the place where they became TK and Carlos. Maybe in every sense of the word, maybe in every way that he wants them to be. If only he can be brave enough. 

If only he can be more like TK. He has to try.

“So, who _did_ you kiss on New Year’s?” he dares to ask.

TK gives him a look, his eyebrows raising up on his forehead beneath his messy brown hair. He looks so perfectly adorable, and Carlos’s heart begins to lose it again.

“Um, no one,” TK answers. He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “The person that I really wanted to kiss was in a different state, almost two thousand miles away.” He squeezes Carlos’s fingers between his own. “What about you?”

“The same situation, actually,” Carlos shrugs, his voice playful for the first time in almost a month. His heart is practically dancing in his chest, the energy in the room crackling to life. “But he’s much closer now, so I might still have a chance.”

Before he can think too hard about it, he tugs his hand back towards him, bringing TK’s with it. His roommate gets the hint, falling forward to rest their foreheads together, his warm breath fanning over Carlos’s lips as TK lets out heavy breath.

“Are you sure about this?”

Carlos just chuckles, raising his free hand to cup TK’s neck, his thumb dragging along the sharp jawline that he loves so much. 

“I’ve honestly never been more sure about anything in my entire life, Ty.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment it’s like they’re trapped in a vacuum, all concepts of time and space and reality gone. If it weren’t for TK’s forehead against his own, their fingers tangled together, Carlos might fear that he’s disappeared into nothingness. 

Luckily, he has TK to ground him, to keep him safe and whole.

He smiles at that thought before finally pushing forward to claim TK’s parted and waiting lips into a second first kiss.

If Carlos had to describe to someone what it’s like to kiss TK Strand, he’s not certain he would be able to find the words.

Sure, it’s like lying in an open field under a blazing sun, feeling the heat from the fiery inferno above you while also sinking into the warm bed of grass beneath you, wrapped in a cocoon of comfort and peace. 

But it’s also like standing in the middle of a blizzard, the world around you unintelligible through a thick cloud white flakes that land on your clothes, lingering for only a moment to allow you to gaze upon their singular beauty before they disappear into the fabric, mere water chilling you to the bone, wondrous and unwavering all at once.

And then, too, kissing TK is like swimming out to sea, the force of the waves constantly threatening to pull you under while also supporting you in your journey further from land, the ache and strain in your chest and arms and legs a constant reminder of how alive you are, as you fight with everything you have to stay that way.

TK’s lips on his own make him feel everything, all at once, like he’s completely outside of himself while also feeling more like himself than he has ever felt in his entire life. 

It’s not just his lips, though those are magnificent and soft and lined up so perfectly with Carlos’s own that it feels like they were made to know each other in this way. There’s also his hands, those long fingers dragging through his curls as TK slides from the bed to straddle Carlos on the floor, his arms wrapped around Carlos’s shoulders as TK scratches gently at the base of his skull, along his hairline. His thighs bracket Carlos, helping to hold his body together as it threatens to vibrate apart.

For his own part, Carlos is doing everything in his power to press TK deep into his skin, where he will hopefully stay forevermore. He brings his hands up to TK’s back, pushing until their chests meet, leaving no space for even one of those tiny microorganisms that TK has so fondly ranted about from his previous-semester biology class. TK shivers against him, and Carlos presses his palms flat, spreading his fingers along the man’s shoulder blades to hold him together.

They keep each other in one piece, as Carlos thinks they were always meant to do.

He loses track of time, having no desire to know of such concepts when his entire world exists in the space between TK’s parted lips. Their moans explode from their chests as their tongues meet, fireworks dancing behind Carlos’s eyelids as TK pushes forward to taste every inch of him before Carlos does the same. 

It’s heavenly, to know a man so thoroughly.

“Oh my god,” TK gasps, throwing his head back to suck in fresh air. Carlos isn’t ready to separate from him yet, so he leans forward to drag his tongue up and down TK’s exposed neck, tasting the delicious saltiness of the sweat on his skin. TK moans wantonly, dragging his hands down Carlos’s bare back in response. He lets out a deliriously laugh. “I cannot believe this.”

Carlos hums in question, pressing open-mouthed kisses along TK’s stubbled jaw, the taste of the other man thrilling him unlike anything else he has ever known.

“I’ve spent months imagining this exact moment between us,” TK explains, his breath catching as Carlos moves to pull at his earlobe with his teeth. “And not once did I think you would be naked while I was fully dressed.”

Carlos pulls back to smirk at him, his hands dragging down to the bottom of TK’s hoodie. “We could fix that pretty easily, you know.”

TK gives him a heady look before he dives forward, pressing a hard kiss to Carlos’s lips. Then, before they can lose themselves in each other once again, he pulls back, raising his arms to pull the offending hoodie over his head, Carlos helping him. TK tosses it aside, his chest rising and falling from the exertion of his recent activities. 

Things slow down for a moment as Carlos stares at the bare chest only inches away from him - the closest they’ve been in this way, as far as Carlos can remember at least.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so many months,” he says, reaching out to run his fingertips along TK’s collarbone. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

TK takes his hand in his own, squeezing gently.

“At the risk of ruining the mood completely, can I say something?”

Carlos looks up at him, noticing the shadow of fear in TK’s green eyes. With his free hand, he traces the line of TK’s eyebrows, smoothing them out from their furrowed positions. 

“You can tell me anything, Ty, no matter what.”

“I know what happened between us last month wasn’t how we saw this going, and if you want, we can just forget that it happened. Or, I guess, I can just forget that it happened,” TK teases gently, his smile soft as Carlos lets out a small whine. 

“But I don’t want to forget everything that got us to that point, that made us _TK and Carlos_ ,” he continues, his emphasis on their grouped names clear. “You are the most important person in my life, outside of my actual family, and no matter where we go from here, I want you to know that that will always be true.

“These past few weeks have been absolutely hell, Carlos,” TK says, his voice catching as he blinks quickly. Carlos feels his heart sink into his stomach at the sight of tears in his eyes. “Not having you in my life at all, it really took a toll.”

“I know what you mean,” Carlos agrees, his own eyes prickling with tears now. “I’ve had trouble sleeping, I’ve felt restless and like a completely different person. And I know that was my fault, that I was keeping my distance because I was scared and embarrassed.” He takes a breath, the sound rattling through him. “But, I need you to know: you’re the most important person in my life, too, TK, and I won’t ever let this happen to us again.”

“Promise?” TK chokes out, his grip tightening on Carlos’s fingers now, still pressed against TK’s chest. 

“With my whole heart.”

He watches as a tear falls onto TK’s cheek, but the man makes no effort to brush it away. Instead, his free hand moves forward, his fingers making contact with Carlos’s bare chest for the first time as he presses against the skin above the mentioned organ.

Then, fully sober this time, Carlos decides to jump off the cliff, feeling pretty confident about his parachute.

“It’s yours, you know,” he says, courage flooding through him, filling him with a beautiful lightness. He presses his free hand against TK’s, holding him there. “It has been for I don’t even know how long.”

He watches as TK’s face crumples, more tears falling to his face. He moves their joined hands away from his collarbone and down to press over his own heart.

“You know, I love how you and I are always on the same page,” TK says, his smile practically blinding.

Carlos gasps at TK’s declaration, the sound swallowed by TK leaning in to claim his lips once more, their hands remaining on each other’s chests, providing promised protection. 

This whole evening has been nothing like Carlos planned, from TK’s sudden appearance to their mutual apologies to their first kisses of the new year, even to their declarations of commitment to one another. It’s been one wild, unexpected ride.

And yet, Carlos could not have asked for a better start to the semester; one that he knows will be unlike any other.

📚 📚 📚 📚 📚

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://howtosingit.tumblr.com/)


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